Thick As Blood
by haileygore
Summary: While mixing Burlesque with pleasure, Cecelia finds herself a comfortable new niche in the Atlantic City society. She runs into the woman who left her, the brother she never knew, and a fixation with a disfigured man. Harrow/OC
1. Parties on the Boardwalk

The Atlantic City lights twinkled from far away. The 1920 Ford engine hummed while they made their way across the highway. Hey had a full tank of fuel as they headed for the city. Leaving New York was the best decision Cecelia had ever made. New York housed the one man who thought he could buy everything – but not her, not Cecelia; No one could buy her.

She had tried to pick between Chicago and Atlantic City like any normal person would – but she made Tory, her chauffer and body guard laugh when she drew a line on the ground with chalk and spun around until she was too dizzy to stand, when she fell down she was pointing in the direction of Atlantic City. She had never been and was rather excited to arrive.

Cecelia had been performing in New York's Hotel Elysée with her very unique and risqué performance, she'd spend three nights a week entertaining men from 11pm to 1am, and again at 3am to 4am. Her show was incredibly popular due to the fact that she was one of the few performers that tastefully displayed her body in new and unique ways while men drooled over not only her talent but of course her God given beauty. She sang, she danced, told jokes, and some nights she simply stood on stage and talked to all the men that vied for her attention.

Every night she'd have men who gave her flowers, and jewelry – and a number of them would offer her a fat check if she allowed them to spend the night with her. She always declined – even though the rumor was that she had a man in her bed every night. She liked it that way – it made her easier to reject all the men who begged for her to take them home. It was nice – or at least it was until Arnold Rothstein entered the club that night. After hearing his coworkers and associates vie about her show he finally made his was down there, and he was at every show, from beginning to end for two whole weeks. He sat from a far away table and watched her grace and power transfix all the men below her. Rothstein has sipped his bourbon and at the end of the night, like the rest of the powerful men with money, he expected her to 'take care' of his desires. When she declined he threatened her within an inch of her life and said he'd be back the next night.

She was gone with Tory an hour after Rothstein had left. Leaving the show, the men, and her troubles behind. But Cecelia wouldn't allow the show to end.

Tory was a friend from the orphan home Cecelia had grown up in. He was African American with a large build, and a knack for protecting those around him. He had kept the other boys from picking on Cecelia when they were growing up – when she was eighteen and finally allowed to leave the home she offered him a job as her bodyguard. It came in handy that cold New York night when she informed Tory that she was going to run. He told her,_"Alright, I've got two Ideas. I've gotta' guy in Chicago – and a Guy in Atlantic City."_

And now here they were, on the road to Atlantic City.

Cecelia was slightly worried about starting up another line up, if it got too big, Rothstein was sure to find her here, and that's why she had a meeting that night, with Nucky Thompson. Chalky White of Atlantic City was apparently a distant relative of Tory's. Chalky had arranged the whole meet – vouching for Cecelia's show he'd seen on his vacation to New York.

* * *

><p>She sat in a Victorian style chair while she waited for the infamous Nucky Thompson. His office was well designed – and radiated the well known fact that he had money. She had arrived after ten, apparently he was enjoying himself at a party here at the Ritz.<p>

Cecelia had given Nucky Thompson an hour to show his face. And when he didn't she wandered downstairs. Tory and Nucky's assicant insisted she stop, that Nucky wasn't the man she wanted to be on the bad side of, but without hesitation she found herself looking up at a man that she couldn't have been happier to see.

"Mr. Bader–" Cecelia called out, recognizing the man giving the speech, he had been a regular during his stay in New York City. She was standing in the carved wooden archway of the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Atlantic City. It was more beautiful that she had imagined, all lit up like that.

"Miss, Cici D! My favorite headliner from New York City, here for my very own birthday! Nucky, you've really out done yourself this time." Governor Bader was smiling at the man sitting at a round table.

" Absolutely – I got a call, and your name was mentioned and I happened to wonder… if you were wondering about me." She sang the last bit of her sentence reminding him of one of his favorite numbers she did a while back. Which seemed to remind a few others who she was – and what her presence promised. With a bit of applause and cheering she was eventually on stage. Singing Mr. Bader his very own risqué song that he very much enjoyed._"You'll vibrate like a string I'm plucking…"_While dancing around and with Mr. Bader she noticed the irritation that had arisen from Nucky Thompson's table, he had a couple men with him, and as soon as she was finished teasing the men at her feet she casually stepped away.

"Gentlemen – now can you see why I stayed so long in New York? Thank you Nucky, really!"

Nucky Thompson gestured his welcome, pretending like it was all part of his glorious plan for Governor Bader's birthday. Several men came up to meet her and shake her hand and offer their praise for such an entertaining number. She flirted with every single one, giving them butterflies – like she always did. It was her only nature.

Nucky looked at the girl before him, someone who was considerable young, maybe twenty at the most. She had long dark hair that was curled for the public, but had odd fringe covering her forehead that was fairly new for this fashion day and age. The dress she wore was knee length, shorter than most public occasional dresses, but it was expensive nonetheless. He gave Jimmy a look, both recognizing that the girl was considerably beautiful. Her eyes seemed to gleam, and her legs were golden and shimmering – she was the type of girl that caught your eye across a room and held your gaze all night long. That was why she was so popular, and her singing wasn't bad either – of course Nucky knew that wasn't their favorite part of the show.

He nodded to Jimmy, giving him the okay to pull her away from the group while the men directed their attention back to Governor Bader, Jimmy pulled Cecelia down the hall and into the elevator, where Nucky quickly followed and before the elevator doors shut tight Cecelia looked into the lobby to find a familiar face, not Torys, not Rothstein's, but her mothers.

Her mother looked at her bewildered. Just then – the doors shut.

She eyed the man with the gimpy leg. His features reminded her of someone she knew. He looked like he was ready to do anything Nucky asked. Obviously the muscle in the group considering Cecelia's arm was now lightly bruised. Jimmy gave her a sharp look – like she should be careful about what she says to Nucky. She tilted her eyebrow giving him a look like she knew he wouldn't touch her – especially if what Cecelia thought was going to happen, happened.

They made their way back behind closed doors, both Nucky's assistant and Tory weren't allowed in. Making the room very silent almost as if she were dead already.

"So you obviously think your important enough to interrupt my very important political gathering."

"I am kind of a big deal." She said, brushing his comment off her shoulders. She felt the back hand of Jimmy graze her cheek.

"You don't speak to Nucky like that." Jimmy told her. She realized now, why she recognized him.

"Darmody kid… right?" she asked tasting a light stain of blood in her mouth, she had bit her lip slightly when he'd slapped her.

"I ain't no kid." He said with clenched teeth. Cecelia smiled back at him, and Jimmy couldn't help but feel she knew something he didn't.

"You may be some hot shot back in New York - But not in Atlantic City you're not. I don't know where the fuck you think you came from, but from what I know you're just a sad orphan that crashed my party."

"If anything I made it better. Seemed pretty drab when I got there." She said, ready to be cocky. She was going to make Nucky a lot of money – and he was going to protect her from Rothstein. She saw the irritated look across his face. He had ignored their meeting, and she wasn't just going to let him get away with that. They sat in silence for a few minutes before a commotion was heard outside his office doors: someone was trying to come in, and was being denied that option. But if Cecelia had guessed correctly on who it was – she would find her was in eventually. Nucky motioned for Jimmy to check on the outside situation. The only surprise Cecelia encountered was when she heard Gillian saying Jimmy's name.

"You are my son, but so help me if you throw me out of this room I will box your ears." Nucky crossed his eyebrows curious as to what business Gillian Darmody had with him this late at night. His confused was fed further when Gillian took one look at the girl sitting in the chair: "Cecelia Darmody what the hell are you doing here?"

Cecelia watched Nucky's face turn to realization. Cecelia turned to face Gillian and smiled sweetly, "Hello Mother Dearest."

"Mother." Nucky said.

"Mother." Jimmy said.

Gillian stared at both the men in the room, and then back at Cecelia. She was flustered, irritated and confused.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again.

"Only doing what I learned from you Mommy." She said sarcastically.

"Wait… Gillian." Nucky stared, "you have another child?"

"Mom," Jimmy said, "Tell me you're just joking. That she's…"

Gillian tried her best to ignore the comments.

"What happened to New York sweetie?" she asked.

"Oh mother, I ran away from my problems. Just like you taught me." Cecelia had a warm spot for spiting her mother and her abandonment. Cecelia was pleased with her comment until Gillian let her swift hand slap Cecelia across her _other_cheek.

"Ladies," Nucky said motioning for Jimmy to get over here and keep the two women apart. "Let's just calm down and… talk for a moment."

"Mom. I have… god damned sister?" Jimmy asked.

Cecelia gave him that one. She did consider herself damned in the Christian sense. But then again, she didn't believe in God. Another thing she got from her mother.

"Yes, Gillian since the bigger elephant in the room seems to be your relationship with this girl why don't you go first." Nucky said, trying to direct the conversation.

Gillian Darmody looked at her son, and back at Nucky. Both were expecting an explanation, and it was obviously too late to back out. She took a seat next to Cecelia and took in a deep breath.

"Nucky, you… would remember this, Jimmy you were too young but… I think you were about two… and… I was only sixteen but I still loved being on stage and… so I went with the girls to New York."

"You left me?" Jimmy asked her, slightly hurt. "When I was a baby?"

"Oh Jimmy don't sound so flustered. I was always coming back – I just took a little break."

"And left me where? With Dad?"

"You were with Nucky… for a little over a year." She admitted.

Jimmy looked at the man who had hidden this from him all his life. "So you've both been lyin'?"

"Jimmy. I took a business trip – Nucky agreed to look after you while I was gone."

"Right, and so out of that I got a baby sister? Who'd you fuck to get her?"

"He was just some… stage hand I don't know. He worked for the theater company and he kept me company while I was away from home. I didn't have you, I didn't have your father, I got pregnant a month later, and then I had… Cecelia. The orphanage I gave her to was very understanding since I was only sixteen she was maybe three months old when I left… so… so tiny."

"Thanks for that mother." Cecelia said.

"Don't you sound ungrateful – I sent you money when I had enough to spare, I visited, I kept in touch."

"Mom – how could you do that to me!" Jimmy asked, Cecelia could see he was hurt, she had felt the same feeling.

Nucky interjected, "Jimmy, sit."

Jimmy refused and headed for the door. So Cecelia interjected, "You shouldn't be mad with her." She spoke loudly enough that he could hear.

"Oh? And why's that?" Jimmy asked.

"Because she chose you." Cecelia stood facing him, she took a few steps to wards him and he didn't back away – and she knew he heard the truth in her words. He knew that Cecelia must've had it worse, knowing all those years her mother was a few hundred miles away living her life with another family.

Nucky had handed Gillian a handkerchief, she blotted her eyes trying to keep her makeup from running. Jimmy rolled his eyes and left the room leaving the rest of them to figure the situation out on their own. Tory walked in the open door, taking the opportunity to check on his friend.

Nucky seemed to recognize him. "You're Chalky's guy right?"

Tory nodded. Nucky motioned him to join them. Tory shut the door and found his was to the desk. Cecelia returned to her seat and with a hint of compassion left in her she held her mothers hand.

"We could use you at the distillery. Chalky's had a bit of trouble with these Italian bastards we've had running around. Now that they've been taken care of, he could use a hand to clean up the mess down there."

"So I've heard." Tory responded.

"I think I need him more." Cecelia said.

"_Oh?_you little bitch?" Nucky started irritated.

"Watch yourself Nucky." Gillian started offended by his choice of words.

"Mother, stop, Tory, Don't." Cecelia said. "Nucky Thompson," she paused: "we have a business meeting to attend to, I would like to get our business taken care of."

"We have no business. Get out of my sight." He told her, he stood and began to put back on his coat to return to the party.

"Do you have any idea what I do to an entire city?" she asked him. "I can increase the tourist population three times over, all only men, and the men who bring their wives? Five fold."

"And what's it to me?" he spat.

"You run a tourist town – the boardwalk, city with lights, alcohol, and hotels. Gimme' two nights a week and your income will triple – at minimum."

"One shoe can't do that."

"No, but an intense crowd of wealthy gentlemen buying alcohol, whores, dice games, and staying in your hotels does."

Nucky realized she had actually thought this business transaction through.

"And what do you want in return? Fifty percent?"

"No." she stated, "I want none of it."

Nucky now knew there was more to the story. "Then what the fuck is it?"

"I keep what I earn on my own… you reap the benefits of having a hit show in town – all I ask is for a bit of protection."

"From what exactly?" Nucky asked, waiting to hear the good part.

"Rothstein. New York – anybody from that direction mostly."

"You got yourself kicked up in Rothstein's shit you're on your own – I just settle my own beef with that guy I'm not gonna start again."

"You will." She said. "Why don'y you go back down stairs and think it over."

* * *

><p>Gillian Darmody was still looking at her beautiful daughter.<p>

"You… have your fathers black hair." Gillian said.

"And your looks?" Cecelia asked. Her question made Gillian smile, something she only did when her children were around.

"So my brother? He's two years… older than me?"

"More like three." Gillian said, answering her question."

"What bastard knocked you up so young?" Cecelia asked. "And how come you never told me? All those times you visited."

"I… was afraid you'd try and follow me home."

Cecelia was immediately hurt.

"Cici baby, I didn't mean," she grabbed her daughters hand, "I guess I wanted to avoid that explanation for as long as I could. Not… because I didn't want you but because I didn't want to stay that girl that got pregnant when she was only a girl. I could barely take care of Jimmy, and without Nucky's help… we wouldn't have made it."

"I always knew you were selfish mother, but perhaps a little responsibility would set a good example for your children." Cecelia stood to leave. Tory followed Gillian didn't follow, for once her daughter walked away from her.

* * *

><p>Nucky returned to the party to find Bader gleaming with appreciation.<p>

"Hey that was… swell really how did you know I liked her?"

"Apparently everyone does." Nucky said, not amused.

"True she is a fiery devil that one, every guy wants to be with her, every woman wants to kill her."

"Why would they want to kill her?"

"For what she does to their husbands of course!" he said laughing, like it was meant to be a joke. Nucky tucked back a glass of whiskey and let Bader continue to talk.

But after a while he realized he had overheard heard more than one conversation about her performance and her reputation.

"Cici D." they called her.

Nucky motioned for Eddie to come over to him. He seemed babbling, like always.

"Those storage rooms, up those stairs." Nucky pointed, "Have one furnished with one of the new mattresses from the Ritz, dressing room, mirror – that sort of thing."

"You are going to give Ms. Darmody a job?"

Nucky was taken aback by the use of Gillian's maiden name, of course both her kids had it – he was still somewhat shocked that Gillian had told no one of having a baby girl all those years ago.

"Yes you dummy, what do you think I'm doing?" Nucky pushed him away.

"Yes, of course sir!" he stammered, he rushed off to find the consierge of the hotel to inform him of the new plans.

Nucky hated to admit it – but he was going to give that girl what she wanted, and he was going to protect her from Rothstein too. Because that damn girl pack a hard bargain, and Nucky being a businessman could not refuse.

* * *

><p>Her and Tory took the lift to the lobby level – the party seemed to be dispersing and Cecelia nearly walked out without notice until a small bumbling German man stopped her.<p>

"Mr. Thompson will have your room ready tomorrow. Until then he had a delux suite for you to stay the night in." he told her.

Cecelia smiled; realized Nucky had made his business investment.

After wishing Governor Bader another Happy Birthday she followed Eddie upstairs to her room. Tory explained that he was leaving to visit Chalky and would return sometime tomorrow. She hugged her friend goodbye and thanked him for taking her all the way here.


	2. Performance at the Ritz

Cecelia awoke to the most awful sound: The crying of children. She was awake in out of bed before you could say coffee. Nucky Thompson stood before her, her nightgown was surprisingly modest for someone who teased men with their body after the sun had gone down.

"Since I did you a favor, you can watch these kids for me."

"Nucky I-"

"No – I'll be back in ten minutes time so we can discuss business, until then I would like to get your upset brother out of my office and doing some work."

Nucky left before she had decided to argue. The thought of a brother had delay her thought process for the time being. To sooth the crying children she played with them games that she had learned in her home.

They were playing patty cake when Nucky returned. His assistant Eddie took them out of the room, and for the first time she was alone with Nucky Thompson.

"So what kind of Rothstein shit are we talking about here?" he asked lighting up a cigarette.

"It's not like that – in my line of work, as you probably witnessed a lot of men vie for my attention."

"Well you are very pretty, and seem to entice them quite easily."

"Right, but it's a game really. Harmless flirting mostly I made that mistake of playing that game with Rothstein."

"There isn't a game that Rothstein loses at. You play with him and you lose or get cheated."

"Don't I know it." She said smiling at his relation. "Well after refusing – he threatened me, and gave me a day to think about it."

"And? How that day end?" Nucky asked.

"That day's not over. I've still got a few more hours."

"You mean this happened yesterday?" Nucky asked. "Talk about Band-Aid method. Why couldn't you just fuck him and get it over with?"

"I don't find him interesting."

"You don't need to – his money's interesting enough."

"Nobody buys me Nucky. _Ever._And I don't sleep with just anyone."

"Alright, touchy subject. So you want me from me exactly?"

"Keep Rothstein and any of his goons away from my show – because I plan on making a splash – and no doubt it'll reach New York."

"I hope it does." Nucky could sense the look of greed in his own eyes. "Tell you what if you deliver, I'll deliver. I had them fix you up a room downstairs near the stage. When can you start?"

"Tonight." She said.

"You can do a two hour show tonight? No preparation?"

"My shows are different every evening Mr. Thompson, I live on spontaneity."

"I love a girl with vocabulary."

"I bet you do."

"Tell you what, go on tomorrow night. Wednesday and Thursday are your nights this week. Give me a chance to publicize it. And we'll see how you do."

"You might want to bump me up to three nights next week."

"We'll see." Nucky said looking sarcastic. "Eddie will call when it's ready –until then." Nucky reached into his pocket and took out an enormous sum of money. "The hotel will get you anything you like – and how 'bout you buy a dress, on me." She realized he had handed her nearly fifty dollars. "See the town." He gave her a wink before leaving.

* * *

><p>Cecelia spent the rest of her morning sipping tea and eating scones. She visited Belle Femme that afternoon and bought a simple dress – one she only assumed Nucky wanted her to have since her usual wardrobe tended to generate some attention.<p>

But what troubled her most was that she had not heard from Tory at all that day. He had assured her that he'd at least contact her today. She wandered the halls of the Ritz hotel looking, and hoping for something interesting. She found a storage closet filled with whisky and took a bottle to accompany her the rest of the afternoon.

She wasn't that drunk when she returned to her room to find all of her suitcases were gone. At first she thought she must be really drunk – but upon realizing she was supposed to move rooms today she left and headed for the concierge desk to find out where her new room exactly was.

She found thought that she was wondering an awful lot about her brother. Someone her mother had never mentioned. Gillian had visited once a year on her birthday after she was six. But she had never even hinted at another child, and even though her absence saddened her, it didn't hurt as bad as it did when Cecelia realized she had chosen someone over her. But perhaps there was good reason, perhaps there was an explanation.

She kept the bottle of whisky concealed in her bag as the hotel concierge summoned a bell hop to show her the club, and to her room.

She didn't say hello back to the young boy that greeted her promptly. She was a master at reading people, especially men, she knew when to talk, when to flirt, and when to keep her mouth shut. And she knew if she responded the boy would ask her all sorts of questions – ones she didn't care to answer.

The Ritz hotel had quite the ballroom, without so many people before she could clearly see how and where she would perform. It was convenient that there was a hallway that lead to a stair case to take her to the second floor – the more difficult it was to get to her room the better. At the top of the stairs he lead her down another hallway he brought her to a fine oak door, and handed her the key.

She politely thanked him, and handed him a decent tip from what was left of Nucky's money. She shut the door and locked it. Her first manner of business was to pull on the locked door, she found that it rattled slightly. She made a mental note to have Tory install extra deadbolts, and safety locks.

* * *

><p>Jimmy had seen Nucky that morning on account of the fight he had with his mother. Cecelia was not the type of long lost sister he would've wanted. He didn't want a sibling at all. Or perhaps he just didn't like being lied to… that's why he chose to confide in Nucky, and now his friend Richard.<p>

Jimmy had known that Richard would make a good friend after the first time they spoke. Both of them struggled with the war, and both of them suffered from that detachment you get once you return. Once you spend years lying in the mud waiting to kill another fucker with a family just like you – you come back changed… and you can never be the same. So they related to each other, quite well.

"So Rich. How'd your night turn out?" Jimmy saw him fumbling with a book, one that he tucked away quickly.

"Fine. Boring." He stated slowly. "Yours?"

"Surprisingly, eventful." Jimmy admitted. "We were at that dinner, for Bader?"

"Yes."

"And this… woman shows up – starts dancin' with him, everyone loves her right? So Nuck is angry – since this was a political party and has me drag the girl upstairs."

"Did he have you kill mm, her?"

"Nah, she's alive. But here's the kicker – my ma shows up, she knew who she was, her name where she was from – and then the girl looks at her, my ma, and calls her mother."

"Was it a hm, joke?"

"Apparently not. She is my half, sister. Her name is Ceclia _Darmody._"

"That… hm, is mm, unexpected."

"It's just a fuckin' mess, she's workin' at the Ritz now. Nucky thinks she can make him some money."

"Mmhm. Will you tell her?" Richard asked him.

"Tell her what?" Jimmy asked him.

"Who you are? What you do?"

"Explain we're killers? To my baby sister?" Jimmy laughed. Not only at the humor of the situation, but of how the words 'baby sister' sat on his tongue.

"She outta know what she's getting into. Bein' 'round Nucky n' all."

"Well I didn't know, so she doesn't have to know."

"Is she nice?" Richard innocently asked, hoping to find something that perhaps Jimmy could relate to.

"Bit pretentious if you ask me."

"Well mother like daughter." Richard said.

"Yeah I guess she is similar to ma. Nucky said she's pretty straight foreword, smart and knows what she wants."

"What is she then? An entertainer? Does that mean whore?"

"Dunno. A dancer I think – she sings too I guess. But I'm sure she takes check if you know what I mean."

"Well she's gotta' be pretty then."

"Yeah ma didn't spare her good looks on me – just on her. I noticed that when I first saw her, I'm glad I found out she was my sister before my thoughts got dirty." Jimmy laughed. He could tell Richard meant to smile.

Richard tried to laugh, but it caught in his throat, like it usually did.

"Maybe she could be a nice edition to the family, don't write her off just yet."

"My family's pretty full." Jimmy admitted, "no room for just some girl."

"Then don't worry 'bout it. Focus on New York – and selling to Rothstein."

"That's the one thing –" Jimmy said, "she's from New York. All the times I've been and I never knew. Hell I could walked right past her."

"Maybe you did." Richard told him. Richard was glad that Jimmy trusted him enough to confide in him.

* * *

><p>A new day was beginning, Cecelia had been up all night, waiting to hear from Troy. She was keeping normal hours. Sleeping during the day, up at night. She had a performance to get ready for – but her mind was elsewhere.<p>

She found her way upstairs – posters were printed with her nickname – Cici – and it even had the caption _"stolen from New York." _She took the lift up to Nucky's office, Eddie was easy to find, but Nucky was a different story. She had to wait for over an hour before he was finally free.

"Hey Nuck – you a heard from your guy Chalky?" Cecelia asked him, finally taking a seat in his office.

Nucky seemed to look at her quite astounded. Like something was wrong.

"Why? What do you need him for?"

"Tory, he went there last night, hasn't come back."

Nucky looked at Eddie, and then back to her. "There's been a problem." He said.

"What…? What happened?"

"A couple of negro haters shot up the place this morning when they were unloading the crates from shipment."

"Well… Tory… he could've-"

"Eddie – get Chalky on the phone – let's see if we can't track down Tory."

"Was anyone hurt?" she asked.

"A few men were killed." Nucky answered truthfully. "But I will find out if Tory is safe. How'd you know the guy?"

"Same orphanage." She said causally.

"They let a black kid grow up with white kids?"

"He was the only one. They made him sleep outside though."

"Right, and he's your…?" Nucky pried.

"Body guard. Hired him myself, he's got muscle, intimidation."

"Right –" Nucky began but was interrupted by Eddie's announcement that Chalky White was awaiting his call.

Nucky picked up the receiver and held the piece to his ear while holding the speaking in his hand a few inched from his mouth. "Chalky," he began. "got an issue – a friend of mine is looking for her bodyguard, guy by the name of Tory."

Nucky waited, and spoke little after asking the question. She had hope in her heart until she saw the look of dissatisfaction play across his face. He thanked Chalky, and the words that stung most in her ears were: "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Look… if there's anything-" Nucky began.

"We weren't and item." She told him. "If that's what your referring to. But I knew him well – I didn't expect him to just disappear."

"Should I cancel tomorrows performance?" he asked.

"No… I – Tory would've wanted me to perform. This was his idea."

"You sure you're alright to perform?"

"Yes." She said. Cecelia could feel the stinging tears that sat at the edge of the eyelids, she was sad to lose the only constant person in her life, she had known him for maybe a year – now he was gone like the light shut out from a window.

She heard Eddie reenter the room, Nucky handed her his handkerchief, she turned and noticed that Jimmy was standing beside her. He didn't look at her at first. But he kept hearing Richard's voice inside his head _'Don't write her off just yet._

"Nucky, I thought that we should talk, perhaps if this is a bad time…" he began.

"No uh – Cecelia was just leaving." Nucky stood to show her out. But Jimmy actually seeming interested in her distress halted both of their movements.

"What's wrong?"

"Cecelia's friend, from last night - " Nucky began.

"Right, the big guy."

"Well the attack at Chalky's distillery this morning… he happened to be there."

"Well's he alright?"

"He was unfortunately killed this morning." Nucky informed him.

Jimmy's silence was enough for Cecelia to begin moving for the door again.

"Anything I can do?" Cecelia heard him ask. She turned to look at her brother. He was standing off center – on account of whatever ailed his leg. The smoke came rushing down his nose like a waterfall. He looked sincere.

"No, but thank you." She told him before leaving the room.

* * *

><p>She told herself she couldn't cry anymore. She had applied her makeup and wouldn't dare to let it run. She had known Tory for a while – and she couldn't help but feel she was alone now.<p>

Upon stepping out of her room she realized that things were normal. She was dressed in an overly zealous outfit – as beautiful as can be. She could already hear the chatter from downstairs. The only thing she was nervous about was the lack of safety. She should've asked Nucky if he could help.

Worried or not, she stepped out in front of a couple hundred men. Her appearance at Mr. Bader's birthday must've gotten a jump-start because she recognized him in the VIP section. Nucky must've done his part too – because the house was full.

Tonight was in store for a crowd favorite. Something she had done before – but something they always loved. Her entertainment only started on stage, but it soon gradated to tabletops and even Mr. Bader's lap. If he had helped spread the word, why not reward him, perhaps he'd bring more? Cecelia did have a mind for faces, she would try to remember anything she could so the next time she'd see them she'd mention she liked the hair cut, the facial hair, the suit – it helped the persona she like to portray: That they mattered. She was so popular because she made men feel like a pretty woman paid attention to them, like she had watched them from afar, like she liked them. The act made her a lot of money – but it was a very tricky persona, one that required hired help.

Something she quickly noticed when she tried to disappear after her set was over. The crowd seemed to overpower many of the stage hands. She was only able to hide behind the stage.

"Get Nucky on the phone." She told one of the waiters, he'd been serving drinks when he had gotten pushed down and covered in scotch.

He handed her the phone, and waited for him to pick up. She held the receiver to her ear praying he'd pick up soon. "What is it? This better be-"

"Nucky – it's me!" she said, she sounded winded, and tired.

"Who?" he asked.

"The girl that's making you money. You need to send someone or get down here! Because I can get anywhere."

"How is that my problem?" he asked.

"Really Nucky? Do you want me to end up trampled! Then you'll have a scandal, not dollars!"

"I can't – I'm at home – I'll – I'll send someone."

"Okay, do it fast because I just roused a full house and I need to get out of here. I think you're out of booze too."

"Out! What do you mean?"

"You were a little under stocked…" she admitted.

"I'll take care of it." She heard the receiver click.

* * *

><p>Nucky called the one person who could help him in this situation.<p>

"Jimmy." He said

"Yeah Nuck?"

"Where are you – Angela forwarded the call."

"Yeah I'm not home. I'm in New York."

"Well don't mention your sister – that'll crawl right up Rothstein's ass."

"Alright – what's up your ass?"

"Well your baby sis had run into some trouble."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Well she's making us a lot of fucking money-" Nucky snapped. "But there's a full house the guys are going crazy – and we're under stocked."

"So what do you need?"

"I need some fucking alcohol and fucking muscle over there right now."

"Okay – I'll give Richard a call, he's probably near the truck and can bring something down."

"Good, you outta hurry – sounds like the roofs falling off over there."

* * *

><p>Richard received the call from Jimmy while he was unloading at the casino. Jimmy had to call three separate guys just to get a hold of Richard. Richard was surprised when he mentioned his sister.<p>

"You want m-me to go there?" he asked.

"Yeah, you can unload some liquor and see what she needs, Nucky said it was important."

"A-alright." He said. "I can be there in 'bout twenty minutes."

"Alright, I'll call the Ritz let her know."  
>Richard pulled up twenty-two minutes later, and even he realized the Ritz as a little understaffed and very busy. Men were all over the boardwalk drunk and laughing – talking about the show. While the men brought in the liquor Richard made his way to the ballroom to find that the crowd only got thicker, one of the waiters grabbed at the box of alcohol and started to unload it behind the bar.<p>

"She's in back." He said. "Good luck getting' back there."

Richard nodded and tried to figure how he'd make his way back there. But from taking the second floor stairs he could work his way back and down – he came out behind the stage just like he's planned and found the girl, along with several waitresses trying to keep the men back. Richard took a moment to look at the girl in the elaborate costume with the dark hair. It was pinned on top of her head. Pieces falling across her face – she was smiling even though a thick bald man had his hand pressed firmly on her arm, he could tell her eyes read worry. Like all the men around her even he was bewildered by the amount of leg she was showing – how her skin appeared to glow.

Richard was able to make his way to the smiling girl. He placed his hand on top of the man who was pressing quire hard, like he wasn't going to let her go.

"Ms. Darmody." Richard said, he could see that she recognized his mention of her last name, one that most men did not know. "Jimmy sent-"

"Of course darling!" she said loudly grabbing his arm "I've been waiting!" Richard was slightly confused by her demeanor until he realized the man was not letting go. Richard stepped closer to her to try and put some distance between her and the man.

"What'aya doin' she ani't goin' anywhere wit' you. Don't worry darlin' I got ya." The man said.

"Actually I am." She said sternly reaching for Richards other hand, the man pulled on her possessively, Richard let his fist do the rest of the talking – the man clutched his bloody nose, and Richard pulled her away before the man had a chance to bounce back into the fight. Both Cecelia and Richard disappeared behind the stage door Richard had come from. The stair way was dim but they made their way up quickly before then were followed they could still hear the commotion from outside. She had to slip off her shoes so she could run and when she did she had to lean on Richard while she undid the buckles. She took his hand and continued down the hall, but they started to all look the same she was running down one hall, then another – finally she found the brown door, she pulled the key from her chest, fastened around her neck by a chain, she looked back down the hallway no one was near them so she unlocked the door and pulled the handle. It was locked. She wound the key again to hear the lock click – this time it was unlocked.

"It was already open." She said.

"I can mn, wait outside here, incase mn, those men find your room."

"I would appreciate that." She said, this time she actually was looking at the man standing before her – she was slightly pained by the scars on his face, the bulk of his injury hidden by a tin mask. But his features seemed sweet to her, warm.

"Can I get you something… Mr…"

"Harrow," he seemed to stuggle saying, "Richard. And no thanks, I'm fine."

"Right, I'm Cecelia." She said. She gave him a smile that Richard almost never received. "Thank you for what you did."

"I'mm sorry you had to see that." He apologized in his utterly raspy voice.

"Oh, don't worry about me – I've seen worse. I'm just glad you got him off."

"I'm a friend of Jimmy's, I thought you should know that he sent me."

"The brother that doesn't like me?" she asked.

"He.. just don't erm know what to think of you yet."

"Right." She said.

"Well I'll uh just be – on that couch down the hall."

He stepped back from her, and gave her the half smile he only could. Cecelia watched him as he walked towards the end of the hallway to take a seat on the paisley colored couch.

"Thank you Richard, Really." She said. He nodded in response to her glowing gratitude. She shut the door, breathing heavily, she began to strip off the heavy show clothing that was still draped around her body. She had gotten more than what she wanted – and she thought it was safe to say Nucky would get his money's worth – which only solidified Cecelia's hope about staying away from Rothstein.

Cecelia draped her silk blue robe over her delicate skin. She left her tights and corset – she needed help to get them off. She unpinned her curled hair and let the dark locks drape across her shoulders. She tightened the fastener on her robe while she threw her shoes inside the closet. She looked at the door, she felt compelled to open it and look upon the face of that curious man. But she straightened her mind on another shot of whiskey.

_"You could pour me one of those." _She heard a man say.


	3. Reflecting at the Start

Nucky Thompson couldn't help but be thrilled that the club was pouring in money. As Atlantic City Treasurer he knew where each portion would be going – and in his current predicament he was quite happy about that. Nucky seemed to have found himself a bit of luck. He wasn't entirely sure how Rothstein would take the news that New York's once most prized performer had ran away to Atlantic City to work for Nucky Thompson. Nucky and Rothstein already weren't the greatest allies.

He was finally glad to go back to sleep next to Margret after he had received a call that all had been taken care of. He was laying awake for no more than ten minutes – when he got another call.

"What the fuck is it this time?" Nucky answered.

"Sir." It was Eddie. "We've had a bit of a situation down at the club."

"I'm aware of that Eddie, I thought it was taken care of?"

"It was. Until Mr. Steinzer broke into Ms. Darmody's dressing room."

"Fuck." Nucky stated. "What happened?"

"Mr. Harrow is taking care of the situation currently – he wanted to know if you had any preferences to what happens to Mr. Stienzer?" Eddie asked.

"No, I do not care. Steinzer isn't an asset of mine, he's not protected by anybody."

"So you don't care if he is killed?" Eddie questioned.

"No. Just clean up the mess." Nucky said before shoving the receiver back onto the phone.

* * *

><p>Cecelia was able to back up a few feet before hitting the pinstriped wall. She tucked back her own glass of whiskey, and didn't offer any to the man in front of her, he had obviously had enough.<p>

"Don't worry baby." He began, "I showed up to take care of ya." He reached foreword and fingered the soft curls on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry darlin' but I've already got company for tonight." She lied.

"I don't see anyone around." The man said slightly laughing.

"Well they'll be here soon, so you better leave." She said, while trying to be intimidating. She realized he had been there the whole time, watching, and waiting. Waiting for Richard to leave, for her to undress… she felt a familiar feeling creep into her stomach. One she hadn't felt since she was little. This man, in his drunken state, reminded Cecelia of her father, a man she had never been fond of. "Look, I don't want to cause any trouble alright, you can walk outta' here – and we wont have a problem."

"A problem? We ain't got no problem."

"We will if you don't leave."

"Come on beautiful! I saw you lookin' at me, we got all the time in the world." He said while leaning in to kiss her face. His lips planted on the corner of her mouth when she pushed him away – but he firmly held onto her wrist.

"Look if you want me to pay," he explained. "I got money, plenty of cash all for you baby."

His hands were all over her. Like he owned her, like he bought her she tried to slink away from him but his firm grasp and the wall behind her left her no where to go.

"Please," she began to beg, "please stop."

"Stop what honey? We're only just getting started." He told her, his hands snaked their way up her legs making her skin crawl.

"Somebody! Help me!" she began to cry out. The man was angered at her attempt to signal for help, he hit her across the face sending her tiny body to the floor. Now that her hands were free she could crawl away from him, and she would've made it to the door if he hadn't grabbed her ankle and pulled her back to him. Now she was on her back, lying on the ground, an even worse predicament.

This guy was heavy, and from his drunken state he mostly fell on top of Cecelia knocking the air out of her lungs. She gasped and coughed hoping her voice would come back to yell again. But once he regained himself and lifted off her chest so she could take in a breath she felt a firm fist fly across her face leaving the stale taste of iron in her mouth.

She froze when he took off his blue jacket, revealing his tweed vest and white collard shirt. He had a silver pocket watch in his chest pocket, he was well dressed – and probably did have quite a bit of money. But it wouldn't have mattered, she would never have taken it.

Panic erupted in her when he reached for the buttons on his pants –_"Richard!" _managed to escape her lips, another plea for help, whether he'd hear it or not she didn't know.

* * *

><p>Richard Harrow was slightly off with how his night was supposed to have turned out. He was doing his job when Jimmy had called him. The casino had ordered an extra shipment that night and they had just finished when he'd gotten Jimmy's call.<p>

Richard would do anything for Jimmy. Jimmy had tried to make it sound like bringing booze to the Ritz was more important than helping his sister but Richard couldn't help but think that Jimmy was really hoping for him to look after her. Maybe Jimmy had taken his advice.

He did feel a little uncomfortable around her, they way she had greeted him… it had never been that different since he's gotten back from the war. Usually Richard saw the look in their eyes, the one that read: _"what happened to him?"_, Later Disgust would follow, and then total dismissal of his existence.

But she had grabbed onto him like a long lost friend, and the way she leaned against him to take off her shoes… made Richard feel helpful, and needed. Of course, he had heard about her act; she entertained men, perhaps that was all she was doing to him.

Richard stayed anyway. Finding a soft cushion on the couch down the hall was more than he needed. He was tired from driving all day and moving shipments, but he was more than willing to do this for Jimmy. A few drunken men did find their way upstairs – but they took one look at Richard and his hidden scars and decided it was best to look elsewhere. Though, even if they tried he wouldn't let them down the hall.

After a short while he heard that the commotion of men had died down, and he stood to check on the status of downstairs, and he planned to return once more to check on her one final time. But that's when he heard what sounded like a soft voice.

He stopped at the end of the hall. Listening for something again. Was she just talking on the phone? Did she call for him?

He turned around and stepped down the hall, his soft foot steps finally were near the door, as he listened for any other sound. If she had called him, she would call again? Wouldn't she? Richard wasn't entirely sure someone like her would ever _need_someone like him.

She was beautiful, like Jimmy and he had discussed. Like Gillian she would age beautifully and look youthful even into her forties. She was a unique individual with talents most girls didn't have. It was easy for her to knock men over with a bat of her eyelashes – she was superb, on the inside and out. They way she treated him convinced him of that. They way she smiled at him… Richard could almost forget he was horribly disfigured.

Then he heard his name, _Richard,_like she needed him, but he hesitated, had she really said it – a beautiful girl like that why would she need a man like him? He could hear… something – he wasn't sure what. But didn't choose to wait any longer, he twisted the silver knob and thrust the door foreword. Which revealed the shaken girl and the sick man above her. With a swift kick Richard kicked the man in his side with enough force to knock him over. Richard leaned down and pulled her further from the man, he stepped over her and stomped the heel of his boot deep into the mans chest, and with a kick of the other foot Richard was sure he broke his nose.

With the man not fighting back, Richard took a moment to turn to Cecelia who had her back presses against her vanity – afraid of the man at Richards feet. He kneeled before her.

"Mm, he hurt you?" Richard asked, even though it was obvious he had. Her lip was bleeding, and she had what looked like a scratch mark across her eye.

Something about this situation was all too familiar for Cecelia, the smell of whiskey, the kind man in front of her offering her his hand. Like before she took it willingly, and cried deeply in his shoulder. Before it had been Tory's shoulder, and she missed him. She missed feeling safe.

She felt Richard pull her from the ground while she still clung to him like a lost little child. With his arm around her waist he lead her outside and down the hall. He sat her on the couch that he had been waiting only a moment ago. Her blue silk robe had fallen down her shoulder to almost reveal her left breast, Richard lifted the silk easily to sit on her shoulder and he turned back to the room he took two steps before turning back, taking off his jacket, and draping it around her.

* * *

><p>Cecelia spent her third night at the Ritz in the same room she had spent the first. Cecelia was moved when Eddie found his way down the hall, he and a few other men were there to assist Richard, and in what exactly she wasn't sure. But when she realized she could still smell the cigar smoke in her hair, she wanted nothing more than a bath.<p>

Eddie lead her back to her old room and explained that she could reach him by calling the front desk if she found she required something. She quietly complied and thanked him before she locked the door tightly. She had turned on each light in the room, the lamp by the bed, the bathroom, and both wall lights. She stripped off her clothing leaving everything on the bed while she wrapped a towel around her figure and waited for the hot water to fill to the top of the tub.

She climbed in, and automatically knew the water was too hot for comfort, but she knew she'd get used to it, and the water would cool eventually. He couldn't help but think back to her father… and what he had done. She couldn't help but want to curse Tory for leaving her when she needed him most. She blamed her mother for more than she was guilty for, and as far as she was convinced – she didn't really have a brother.

She let the cigar smoke soak out of her hair while she softly hummed to herself the tune of her favorite song. She dried herself with the cotton towel and looked at her swollen face in the mirror. She called the front desk to bring her some ice, the last thing she wanted was to interact with another human being – but she needed to bring down the swelling in her lip and her crying eyes if she was to perform tomorrow.


	4. Drunk after the Show

Cecelia couldn't sleep the rest of the night, it was already noon and she found that through the ordeal of last night that nothing could calm her rapid thoughts. The swelling to her lip had lessened quite a bit and even though it was still obvious, she figured she'd better go see Nucky about tonight.

With little makeup on her face she traced her lips with a deep red lipstick hoping to blend the colors of her bruised lip. She tucked her hair behind her right ear while the rest covered her face slightly; hiding the light scratch on her face. She slipped on a pair of slippers the hotel had brought and the dress she had bought with Nucky's generosity, Eddie had been kind enough to bring her clothes but not shoes.

Her last though trailed to the jacket that sat over the back of the desk. The brown tweed caught her eye, as the rest of the room was a pale blue. She remembered after her bath that it was the one thing that she had clung to because the lining was soft and it felt good on her skin. The fact that it didn't smell like cigars to her made it all the more appealing. She hated the smell, it was how her father smelled.

She picked up the jacket and cradled it her arms. Figuring returning it was a necessary measure. She found the hall outside her room to be empty and quiet. She returned the ominous silence by gracefully placing her feet against the carpet as to make no noise. She reached the lift and took it upstairs to Nucky's office. When she stepped out Eddie was quick to greet her. With the jacket folded over her arms she politely waited until she saw the unhappy face of Nucky Thompson.

"What the fuck?" Nucky said when he first saw her, she could only read surprise in his face, and maybe slight agitation. He lead her back to the seating area and gestured for her to sit – she started to defend herself before she even took a chair.

"He came at me, I didn't-" she began.

"Not Steinzer, the fucking show!" Nucky asked, now she could tell it was pure surprise and admiration.

"I told you- If you didn't-"

"No... I had no idea it would cause such a ruckus." He interrupted.

"Well you had to know to a certain extent, if you let me do it." She told him.

"Yeah but a full house on the first night I wasn't expecting such a turnout."

"Obviously." She said spitefully while tapping her face.

"Look, I can get you some help if thats what-"

"Nucky, lemme be honest, what I do, I do it well. I can make these guys believe whatever they want to believe - except that no is an option, and always my answer."

"As experienced from last night. But you can't say a pretty performer like you spends her nights alone?" He agreed.

"I do Mr. Thompson, and I will not go into my private preferences at the moment. But as you can blatantly see I am a mere girl, with girl arms, and girl legs. I am not strong, I am entirely cunning in my line of work and I cannot complete a job without some muscle." She explained.

"Look, I'll get you some hired help." Nucky said again, "It shouldn't be hard for me to rouse up a couple of strong guys, I promised protection and I'll give it."

"I like Richard." She added.

Nucky looked at her calmly and then down at his glass of scotch – he looked slightly surprised. "The war hero?" Nucky asked choosing his words carefully. "I can ask Richard, but it's entirely up to him. He works a lot, now that he's not staying with me and Margret."

"So I've chosen well?" she asked. "If he was Nucky Thompson's own personal choice then he must do something right."

"He's a good man, and I'll talk to him."

"And?"

"And I'll add few extra men for downstairs."

"I think that would suffice." She told him. She stood to leave, carrying the coat with her, as Richard was not present she could not return it.

"You plan on performing tonight?" Nucky asked.

"You said Wednesday and Thursday." She said as she turned back to him in the doorway.

"I figured after last night you might-"

"Well tonight I'll have extra hands, and Mr. Thompson, if you have any trouble convincing Richard, inform him I have his jacket."

Nucky gave her a strange look before nodding his head and accepting her leave. Eddie informed her that her room had been polished down stairs if she wished to return everything should be spotless. She explained her need for a breakfast or lunch, and Eddie informed her to go back to her room and wait for service to arrive with her lunch.

She felt greatly taken care of that morning despite the terrible thoughts in the back of her head. However the one that plagued her most was what had actually happened to Mr. Steinzer, and would he try to come back?

* * *

><p>Richard Harrow was slightly surprised when Nucky asked to see him, although he assumed it was about last night Richard always got an awkward feeling when he was to have a direct conversation with someone. He worried about his speech, his appearance. He tried to compensated by being polite and attentive – but he always, always felt them staring – <em>it was so distracting.<em>

He clicked his throat a few times before Eddie opened the door while saying: "He will see you now." in his rich German accent.

"Richard carried himself over to Nucky's hard wood desk where he sat holding a glass of scotch and a lit cigarette. Nucky offered him a drink, he refused.

"_Mm, _have a lot of deliveries to make erm, or I would." Richard said in response.

"How's that going? Well?"

"_Mm, _yes sir. Complete the list everyday."

"Yes you do, which is why… well I don't really want to ask you this because I think I'll distract you from completeing your daily work."

"_Em, _what, what would that be?"

"Well Ms. _uh, _well Cecelia was in here this afternoon."

"I took care of Mr. Steinzer sir, he won't cause a problem."

"I know you did, uh what exactly happened Richard?" Nucky finally let his curiosity get the better of him. Since he and Eddie both just knew there had been an incident.

"_Mm,_ she called out for help, when I came in, _Mm,_ he was on top of her, I kicked him off, and she had a few bruises but not much, so I got her out of the room, came back and called your office and got um, _Mm, _Eddies, his name."

"Was she okay? Shaken up?" Nucky asked. Her demeanor this afternoon hadn't proved to him she had been through something so unsettling.

"She was crying, I suppose she was upset."

"I see." Nucky looked at his scotch, and let a long pause soak into the room. "Uh, I asked you to visit because she needs some extra help on her performance nights. I think that's apparent." Richard nodded in compliance. "She asked for you by name."

Richard just looked at Nucky, not quite sure what to say, or how to even begin to respond. He was confused.

"To help? Just I uh, _Mm, _wouldn't know-"

"Just like last night, make sure she stays out of some creeps hands and make sure no one tries to break in, _again._Like you did for me."

"I _Mm, _can do that Mr. Thompson."

"For now it'll only be Wednesday and Thursdays, so you won't have to work extra the rest of the week, unless the schedule changes of course, I assume you can work with that."

"Yes sir, I'll do it." Richard stood up and he could tell Nucky's next meeting as arriving and he assumed the conversation was over. He straightened his hat and the arm of his tin mask before turning and walking out that door.

"Oh, and Richard. She uh, has your jacket." Nucky said, Richard nodded one last time before leaving the office completely and prepared to finish the rest of the truck deliveries before tonight.

* * *

><p>The eleven o'clock show of Cici D's occurred as planned, and on time. It was just as full from the night before, Richard had even heard the other guys say that some men were waiting outside on the Boardwalk to get in. With men shoulder to shoulder near the stage, and several tables, VIP and regular: drinks flew off the shelf, just as the men hit the floor from drunkenness. They would rotate out the intoxicated gentlemen then let more in – cash almost flying out of their pockets as they went.<p>

Richard was behind the large grand curtain. He was leaning against the same doorway he'd come out of last night. He remembered being surprised by how beautiful she was – she nearly stopped him in his tracks. Only this time he couldn't even see her face yet he was still transfixed. Everyone in the room could hear that velvet voice singing to the instrumental music of the Ritz band, and if you could hear through the cheering you could hear the way her shoes matched the rhythmic beat of the band as she danced across the stage while man after man stared at her ankles only wishing for more.

Richard had found that he couldn't help but peer through the gaps in the curtain to catch his own glimpse of Atlantic City's new and fascinating harlequin. He wished that he was one of the men out there – one of the men she adored. They all seemed to get a glimmer of attention from her, something they took home and cherished. She was so personal in singing to them, in talking to them, and joking and laughing. It was like she knew you, like she wanted to be with you.

Richard was surprised when the curtain swung around, he realized it was well after one in the morning – it hadn't felt like it had been that long. The performance was so enjoyable that you just lost track of time.

Cecelia walked right up to him, without hesitation. Richard kept waiting for her to step back – to look at his face and stare, but there she was again with a whole hearted smile.

"Ms. Darmody." Richard said.

"Richard," her smile stayed. "It seems you've done your job well." She said looking around at the back of the stage, only the men that were _supposed_to be there were there. No drunken gentlemen with grabby hands or cold cash, just musicians and stage hands. "Shall we?" she asked, referring to upstairs.

Richard was quite unsuspecting to her being so warm with him as he looped her arm with his while leaning on him for support from the uncomfortable and surprisingly heavy costume. Upstairs they both went, and this time they had no trouble finding where her room was. Finally she reached forward to open the door and before stepping inside she tilted her head, and with a pouty face, she asked: "Would you mind?"

"No." he replied in his deep voice. She could tell that the scar on his throat must've hindered his vocal chords in some way. His voice didn't match his face. He stepped inside her dressing room.

To her it was more than just a preparation room; it was her home while she was here in Atlantic City. She had a vanity table with intricate carvings around the mirrors, while she had dressing panels in the corner near her closet where she could put on or take off anything she wanted. She had a large bed in the back of the room. She was more than happy with the red linens, and soft brown rug that covered most of the cold wood floor. She had a large bathroom with a claw foot tub where she also had littered with many types of makeup and accessories.

She watched as Richard flicked on the light to the room, then the bathroom, and then the single bulb in the closet – looking for any stowaways. When his search came up clean she couldn't bare to think of him leaving, but gave her a nod and informed her he'd be right outside the door if she needed him. She slipped the headdress off her pinned hair and nodded to him before he closed the door.

* * *

><p>Cecelia sat down and unpinned her hair as she wiped off a majority of the makeup she had caked onto her face. Now you could see the slight bruising on her lip and the redness of the scratch across her eye. The makeup had hidden it well.<p>

She slipped on a black nightgown, it had been a gift from her many gentlemanly friends. It came to her knees, and was covered in embellishments. She slipped her blue robe over that and began to clean. She still couldn't sleep, yet she felt exhausted. She hung up her sequins and feathers while she threw out the trash. She took another swing of whiskey from the same bottle, she found it to be empty now and she was slightly sad about it. But finding alcohol seemed like a fun adventure and if she was to fall asleep tonight, she would need it.

She peered out of the door, he head floating between the door and the wall frame. Richard stood when he noticed her, Cecelia shut the door behind her and while biting her lip she tiptoed over to him.

"Want something to drink?" she asked.

"I really shouldn't, as well you, it's late." He kindly told her.

"Come on, I need something to help me sleep and I can't drink alone, don't try to pretend you don't drink." She said tapping him with the back of her hand.

"I uh- I've had a drink before yes."

"Wait… wait here, I have a surprise."

Cecelia stepped down the other end of the quiet hallway, the extra help was doing their job because she hadn't heard anyone up here all night. She turned and giving him a signal to wait here while she bounded around the corner, after checking each new hallway for men or hired help she slipped into a small room on her left. She turned on the light and whispered '_damn.' _seeing that she had happened upon a small broom closet._ S_he shut off the light and opened the door again and cautiously made her way down to the next door, and after flipping on the light she found crates of alcohol.

* * *

><p>Richard wanted to follow her, to keep her safe. But she was gone so fast, he hadn't even see which hall she'd gone down, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt and waited.<p>

She came back with s sly smile on her face. In her hand was a bottle of the good prohibited alcohol. A brand Richard had delivered that day infact, he recognized the label.

"Come, quick, protect me in here." She said grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.

"_Mm_, I don't need a drink." He politely said.

"I'm seldom sober Mr. Harrow. But I rarely drink with company when I should. So please, have a drink, just one – on me."

"Where'd you find it?" he asked her taking the glass she had poured.

"Nicked it." She said.

"This bottle came in yesterday, by sea."

"Does that make it special then?" she asked.

"Better than the _Mm, _stills." He said.

"Then that's good!" she said over exaggerating her excitement.

"_Mnm, _suppose so." He said. He held the glass in his hand as he sat down on the wooden chair. There was a large oak chest at the foot of Cecelia's bed, where she sat with a cushion to soften the seat. Richard took the smallest sip he could manage, something he knew he could get down without embarrassing himself.

"So my brother," she asked, "what's he like?"

Richard played with the glass in his hands a bit more – turning it, swirling the whiskey.

"He's… _Mm, _A very… good friend." Richard answered.

"Does he have a family?"

"He… has it all." Richard began slowly – waiting for the words to come to him while trying to suppress his jealously. "A wife, Angela and a little boy. Your mother, of course."

"And you." She said.

"And me." Richard admitted.

"Did you two meet in the war?" she asked, while playing with her glass.

"No, but it's uh… how I got this." He said tapping the tin mask that covered his face.

"Figured." She said. "Makes you look quite threatening." She said with a smile.

"I know." He told her. "I don't like the way people look at me."

"They stare." She said.

"And say things, sometimes I can hear 'em. Sometimes I already know what they're gonna say."

"But they don't know what they're talking about." She said. Richard had paused and actually taken time to repeat this sentence in his head – she was right. "You're nice, they should talk about that." She said finishing her second glass. "If you took every scar I have, mental, and physical, and you put them all right… here," she said while placing her palm on the left side of her face, "I'd look something like you."

"But you're beautiful, and they talk about you." Richard said, giving her an example that he plainly saw.

"No Richard, you're beautiful." She said still smiling. She was half asleep by this point, but still relaying her thoughts without a censor.

"I think… _Mm,_ that's enough liquor for tonight." He said. "You're starting to sound a little _Mm, _not like… yourself." He said trying to half smile.

"Oh, don't worry I am never myself." She added, she gave him another smile as he took the bottle from her feet and moved the glasses to the tabletop. _"Oh, wait." _she stood up, and Richard stood with her she bent over lifting the lid of the trunk and pulling out his tweed jacket. "Here." She said, "And thank you, for everything last night."

Richard reached to take the jacket from her hands as she stumbled foreword to meet him. She softly leaned on him while he took the jacket from her and placed his other arm around her back. He gave her a slight lift, and as she relaxed he set her on the end of the bed where she voluntarily laid down placing her head on her pillow.

Richard assumed she had fallen asleep. Her long number, the ordeal last night, and a couple glasses of whiskey would do anyone in for a good nights rest. He pulled the blanket that lay rumpled next to her on top of her body, giving her comfort and warmth, and he couldn't help but move the stray strands of hair off her face before he silently slipped out the door. And even though he probably didn't need to, Richard sat down on the paisley couch at the end of the hall and waited for a few more hours.


	5. Sorrows of the Past

Waking up with that kind of headache made Cecelia want to roll over and go back to sleep. But from where her room was, he could hear nothing but the band rehearsing. So she sat up, and with a painful rush of blood from her head she made her way to the bathroom.

She found herself trying to remember the night before while she attempted to climb into a tub of hot water. She added oil, and planned on soaking in the water until it turned cold.

She had only begun to relax when she heard a noise coming from outside the door. She was startled at first, thinking someone must have broken in again. But she reminded herself it could be a number of people that have business with her. She wrapped herself in a towel and pulled her wet hair to one shoulder – and before she opened the door she pulled out a pistol. It was small, a woman's gun, Tory had given it to her, she usually kept it near her and now she realized it was all she had left of him.

Cecelia opened the door and pointed the gun straight ahead until she could see the face of the person sitting in her room.

"That's no way to greet your mother." Gillian said. She had a smile on her face as she sat at the edge of the bed.

"Mother? What mother? I don't see one." Cecelia said. She shut the door and returned the pistol to its hiding place before she swung the door open again.

"I came to talk." Gillian said kindly.

"Well… I'm not in the mood, I have a bit of a headache from last night."

"Celebrating perhaps? I saw your performance… it was marvelous. Reminded me of when I was your age. Although I didn't have quite the body you do – after having two kids n' all."

"Thank you." Cecelia told her, not actually caring. She stood against the wall looking at Gillian who sat there looking up at her. Cecelia couldn't help but notice the expensive looking dress, shoes, and makeup.

"I saw the ones in New York too." Gillian told her.

"You didn't. I rarely saw you." Cecelia said quickly.

'I visited – as often as I could." Gillian admitted.

"You would visit once a year, around my birthday if I remember correctly."

"Yes, I tried always to bring you gifts and surprise you." Gillian said smiling from the retrospect. "Every year, since you were six."

"I always remembered looking forward to your visits… until I grew up and realized they were out of pity. And six, the year my father pulled me out of the home, did you have something to do with that." Cecelia asked, actually curious.

"I did tell your father where I'd left you – he begged me to. I had no idea… he'd be put in prison." Gillian said adjusting her dress, "When you were six it just happened to be the year I came into free time...time for you, Jimmy was eight… and he had really taken a liking to Nucky."

"Right, Jimmy. I hear you're a grandmother too." Cecelia said, knowing her mother would hate that nickname.

"Yes, little Tommy, and then there's Angela, his mother. She's ever so pretty. She had Tommy while Jimmy was away at war, precious thing waiting for your husband to come back. I didn't even know he was alive until he just showed up one night after a rehearsal." Gillian watched Cecelia become slightly jealous of her gloating over her only son. "I wanted you to know… that I never… chose Jimmy over you. If… if Jimmy's father had known what had happened in New York, he would've done something… something to hurt me and Jimmy."

"Do you pick the worst men everywhere you go mother?"

"I seem to have retained that talent." She said. "I'm so sorry we couldn't have spent more time together. By the time I was on my own you were growing up, and wouldn't speak to me."

"I had a little bit of a grudge." Cecelia admitted.

"I would've loved to have been your mother."

"I waited for you to be. You should've taken me away from him sooner," Cecelia said referring to her father. "You should never have brought him to see me, never let him take me home."

"What was I supposed to do? Keep a father from his daughter?" she asked.

"You were supposed to be my mother! You were supposed to notice the bruises… you were just…" Cecelia said. "Supposed to keep me safe."

"I… I know I should've been around more." Gillian admitted.

"You shoud've picked. Since you chose Jimmy you should've just left me in New York – If you had never strung me along… If I had never hoped in the first place that you'd take me back to Atlantic City with you, maybe I woulda' turned out better."

"But… you were my daughter. I never wanted to give you up… I had no choice."

"Please leave. I'm sick of hearing this." Cecelia told her. Gillian had started to dab at tears in her eyes. She quietly stood and left… leaving Cecelia cold and shaking in her towel. Cecelia quickly wiped away a single tear that was on her cheek before she went back to the tub. The water was now cold… She drained the water and quickly rinsed her hair before leaving for a cup of coffee.

* * *

><p>Cecelia later found the Nucky Thompson had sent her a note – a private car would be waiting for her the next morning to take her to the service where they would bury Tory. Her heart sank when she realized that tomorrow she'd have to admit that he really was gone – that it'd be the last time she saw him.<p>

Cecelia had no one to notify. He had no parents, no family except for Chalky. There wasn't really anyone to tell about his death, no one for her to really cry to except for a warm bottle of whiskey. No one cared about and orphaned colored boy.

Cecelia half wondered that if she hadn't chosen to come here, that if she had fallen and pointed to Chicago, if things would've been different. Regardless, Tory would've visited his only family at some point – but could his death have been avoided? Cecelia couldn't help but momentarily blame herself. But she knew that Tory would've chastised her for doing so. He always believed there was reason to things, even death. So Cecelia tried to, for his honor, to think like him, like perhaps there was a purpose for his death.

The next day Cecelia wandered down the plot cemetery where most African American men and women were buried. She was only half listening to the preacher pray for those four men – her and the man that drove her there were the only white people there. And if Cecelia hadn't been sitting next to Chalky, she would've received more than a few odd looks.

Her eyes stayed dry while they buried him, the grass wasn't very green, and most of the headstones there were made of wood or poorly carved stone. It did make her slightly happy to see that the four headstones looked of quality craftsmanship. Something that Chalky or perhaps Nucky were responsible for.

She left the funeral that day feeling that if she died, even less people would be at her funeral. Both her and Tory had been alone most of their lives and it seemed that the outcasts tried to stick together, but now she didn't even have him.

She saw Nucky leaving as she was returning, and she surprisingly found a look of grief for her. He had seemed rushed or she would've stopped him – but instead she found herself winding down the rouge colored carpets feeling sorry for herself. She knew that in time, she might forget that she felt so alone, but for now she had a couple days before another performance, and if she wanted she could spend them drinking.

* * *

><p>The spot light was hot and blinding. Cecelia was standing under it, rehearsing a song with the band, one she knew well – and one that they didn't. She was half bored waiting for them to catch the tempo, and regulate the beat. The lights made her feel like she was sitting inside and oven waiting for the timer to ding. But the light was something Cecelia had gotten used to when she was young. Gillian had taken Cecelia out for her seventh birthday - where Gillian let Cecelia watch from backstage the marvelous show before her. She watched her mother perform, her friends, even that very night Cecelia had danced to the orchestral tune that everyone heard, and since that night Cecelia had never been far from performing. Cecelia would have friends in her orphanage act out parts with her, and they'd put on talent shows for parents.<p>

Cecelia never admitted to herself that the avant-garde performances reflected her need for her mother to want her. She had picked the same profession, hoping that Gillian would relate, that Gillian would want her. But when her mother never came for her – she put everything into performing. So much that it became her career. The moment she was eighteen she left the orphanage and proceeded to dance and sing in downtown New York, eventually finding herself a home at the Hotel Elysée. If Rothstein hadn't interfered with her time there, she's still be on three nights a week with familiar faces. But instead she had to learn knew ones – and not only did that include the audience, but these people that were family.

She hadn't spoken to Gillian since that day in her dressing room. A long time ago, when Cecelia was only a baby, Gillian left her, in a bad place and all alone. However when Cecelia turned six Gillian and her father showed up at the orphanage and took her away. Cecelia being so young was more than happy to go – she felt like her family was finally together and that she could live a normal life. But a few weeks later Gillian returned to Atlantic City and Cecelia was left once again in a bad place, alone, and with her father.

Gillian later showed up once a year around her birthday, expecting Cecelia to act like she had only been gone a day. And Cecelia being a naïve child gave in and loved her mother every moment she had with her. The summer she left her fathers home was the summer she stopped wishing her mother would return, that was the summer that Cecelia realized no one loved her, and she was only twelve.

Gillian would still visit every year around her birthday, but the visits would be shorter, and the conversations became colder. And once Cecelia left the orphanage – she wouldn't see her mother for another three years. But that was where she was now, with Gillian, and Jimmy. Her _very_disconnected family.

Once the band was finished Cecelia slipped off the stage barefoot and found that waiting for her was Jimmy Darmody. She looked at him, she knew he was there; he knew she was there. It was obvious standing before one another, yet each of them only looked. They both did the same thing; they both studied each other's features looking for a sibling resemblance,

"Sorry about your friend." Jimmy said. "Klan's everywhere these days, all bastards, one after the next."

Cecelia could see that her older brother had quite the baby face. Even though he was older, she seemed more distinguished. She ignored his apology not wanting to think of something that made her sad.

"How was New York?" she asked. "I miss the place."

"It's not bad, it's getting cold." He said. "But uh… Truthfully, I came here cause of ma'. Says you won't talk to her."

"Trying to keep my distance, keeps me from saying things I'll regret." Cecelia said walking past him. She slipped through the heavy backstage door and wandered upstairs while Jimmy slowly followed.

"She means well." Jimmy called ahead. "Trying to talk n' all."

"Right, Jimmy. She does, but I don't and I'd rather not say more hurtful things."

"She says you two have always had a bit of a problem."

"We've never had a "thing" she was never around, she never called, never kept in touch." Cecelia turned and walked down the hall, still hearing Jimmy trying to talk to her.

"Well she had a life here. You know that."

"And I had no place to go." Cecelia said. Jimmy was now walking up to Cecelia as she stood in the doorway of her room. The small chat slightly interested her. She watched the way that he limped down the hallway, with the fitted suit and fedora; he did look sort of menacing. He paused, and lit up a cigarette, and took a long drag before saying:

"She tries." Jimmy said. "I think for how quickly she had to grow up – she didn't do too bad on me."

"You seem to have turned out just fine." Cecelia said. "Wife and kid, money, a home, and a mother. I woulda turned out fine too."

"She says you had your dad for a while." Jimmy told her.

"I did. Six years." Cecelia said.

"You had a home then."

"I had a prison." Cecelia stated, "Did… she explain how that came to be?" Cecelia asked. "Did she happened to mention because she was the one that turned me over to the orphanage that she had to confirm that Dan Herringston was my father? And after a few days with both of them she left me… alone with him."

"So you got your father, I never had one of those. Seems like you should be grateful."

"Dan's in prison Jimmy. He got sent there when I was twelve – no help from your mother."

"Why would you need her help."

"She visited me Jimmy, about once a year, and there are certain things… a mother should just know about her child." Cecelia couldn't quite handle explaining her past to Jimmy. She didn't let others in easily, and she didn't want some sympathy case.

"She couldn't be there for you, she could barely be there for me. Not to mention my father would've had a fit if he knew what had happened in New York."

"I will never forgive her for leaving me with my father, and I will never thank her for dragging me along hoping that one day she was gonna decide to be my mother and take me home with her."

She took the cigarette from his fingertips and flicked off the building ash. Cecelia took a long drag and held Jimmy's gaze before he had the stomach to talk.

"I just know… she would've done better if she could have." Jimmy told her as Cecelia handed back the cigarette. Cecelia quietly stepped back and began to shut the door before he asked another question: "And what's with you and Richard by the way? I don't want my guy driving all day and staying up guarding you."

Cecelia opened the door back up and leaned into the doorway. "I like Richard."

"Yeah well Richard's mine, you can't drag around _my_associate."

"I only made a request, and he accepted."

"Of course he did, any man would accept the job of standing outside your dressing room – look at you."

"_Look at me? _What am I? Some hussy you think sleeps with three guys a night?" Cecelia could slap him, and she wanted to just the way he had slapped her when they'd first met. "You honestly think that I asked him to do this with the promise of sleeping with him?"

"Isn't that what you do?" Jimmy questioned her, "Seduce men onstage? When they get a little drunk and handsy do you want to call Richard to save you?"

This time Cecelia did slap him. She knocked the cigarette clean from his teeth.

"Fuck you, Jimmy Darmody." She spat at him. "You know nothing about me!"

Jimmy being the rough man that he was firmly grabbed her jaw and arms to keep her from flailing about.

"Stay away from my family, and my friends. That _includes _my mother." He let her go, and Cecelia looked at him in disgust. She rubbed her now sore jaw and quickly shut the door and locked it, in case Jimmy had anything else he wanted to say.

* * *

><p>Jimmy found Tommy waiting for him on the steps of the house. He was playing with his shoelace, trying to tie it until he saw Jimmy. Tommy stood up to run over to his dad nearly tripping as he went.<p>

"Whoa whoa little buddy." Jimmy said. "You can't go runnin' with untied laces."

"But I need help." Tommy said.

"Well here." Jimmy said. He bent down even though his leg hurt him, and tied the shoelace that fell over onto the sidewalk. Gillian was on the porch, she had been watching Tommy, and waiting for Jimmy..

"So? Did you talk to her?" Gillian asked, standing up.

"Where's Ang, and Richard?"

"Inside. Cooking dinner." Gillian said, still waiting for the answer to her first question.

"Yes, I spoke to her." Jimmy said picking up Tommy. "Told her not to come near us."

"Jimmy how could you?" Gillian asked, she was concerned. "What'd you do?"

"Told her to stay away." Jimmy said again. "She's no good."

"Damnit Jimmy, she is your sister, and I don't care that you don't like her."

"A sister daddy?" Tommy said. Jimmy looked at him at smoothed his hair before he turned back to Gillian.

"She obviously hates you." Jimmy said. "Doesn't give a damn."

"I know she needs me Jimmy. I know she's mad, I was just hoping-"

"And you, you're staying away from her too." Jimmy said, pointing at Richard. He had come out to see why Gillian had raised her voice. Angela was close behind him.

"What'd Jimmy do?" Angela asked Gillian, unaware of the current predicament.

"He did something stupid."

"Stupid? I told her to leave us alone. She's not my sister, and she's a bitch for a daughter. I'm not going to call her my sister. And you're not going to give her the time of day."

"She's my flesh and blood Jimmy…" Gillian was angry with him. She had wanted to reconcile as much as she could with Cecelia. She did love her, she always had. But She was so young and arrogant, by the time Gillian was able to take on her responsibilities, Cecelia already hated her. Jimmy took Tommy inside the house, Richard followed and Angela stayed to consol Gillian in her upset manner.

Jimmy set Tommy down by some of his toys so he could play before dinner was finished. Jimmy was angry that his mother was mad at him for what he'd done. He always defended his mother, she had always appreciated that.

"I took the job because Nucky asked me to." Richard said. "_Mhm,_I don't mind the work."

"You can work all day Richard, doesn't leave you any time to sleep."

"_Mm,_only two nights."

"She's just a whore Richard. Leave her be."

"Both nights I sat outside her room she never invited anyone in, asked for anyone, or looked for anyone. I've seen men, type of guys with money, looks, and she doesn't even care – she spends her nights alone."

"How do you think she gets paid?" Jimmy asked him, trying to prove him wrong.

"She makes money, _mm,_from the men. They just give it to her."

"Exactly, that's what whores do. Nobody just gives away money, unless they expect something in return Richard."

Jimmy walked away from him, ending the conversation. Richard would've liked to prove him wrong somehow. Jimmy wasn't seeing what she was actually like, and Richard couldn't help but wonder what she'd done to make him so angry.

Richard could only remember the fear in her eyes the night that he saved her from a terrible fate. He remembered how she looked at him with a smile, the only smile, while several other men were begging for her attention. And when she looked at him he couldn't help but feel she saw the Richard that he had always been – but lost. The way she saw him, and the way she acted were so accepting of him. She didn't seem afraid, never once had he caught her staring… and somehow the word: _'beautiful'_ rang in his ears, over, and over again.


	6. Poetry and the Soldier

Richard Harrow had contemplated what Jimmy had told him. Several things entered his mind: Jimmy was his friend, and even though Richard didn't agree with his terms – he thought that respecting his wishes would be for the best. But if Richard took a moment and thought for himself he knew that he wanted to do the job.

For some reason the way the Cecelia looked at him made him comfortable. He almost felt like she couldn't see that half of his face was fake. He liked her kind eyes, and kind words and he even enjoyed sharing a drink with her that night he put her to bed. Apart from work Richard didn't really have much contact with others – and in a way he almost felt like Cecelia was someone that could be meaningful to him.

Richard left his home that day feeling lonely, as he often did. He wouldn't see Jimmy until later, and there was little alcohol to move that day. Richard was uneasy when he had spare time – it tended to leave him with his own thoughts. One's which Richard didn't exactly trust. The stubborn Atlantic waves would leave him thinking about the beaches in France. Beaches he remembered that held the souls of hundreds of men.

Richard tried to focus his attention elsewhere. He rarely looked into shop windows because his own reflection would often bother him. But today many windows were plastered with bills for Cecelia's show, one he had now seen. And like many men who had seen the show – he tended to like Cecelia. Richard now distracted himself with thoughts of the girl and how she managed to bring every man to empty his pockets, and beg for her attention. Some as beautiful as her deserved it… that was for sure.

Richard could hear her voice in his ears. Something velvety and sweet seemed to lull him away from the roar of the crashing waves. And he carried on his merry walk, now slightly happier than he had been before. It seemed that the only things left Richards head was work, the war, and his sister. All things that tended to make him sad since he struggled to see anything bright in them anymore – and now he could deny that last week listening to Cecelia had made him smile, and he also couldn't deny that he liked sharing that drink with her… he liked the way she saw him.

* * *

><p>Cecelia was now fitted from head to toe in a flashy blue dress that fitted her curves tightly. It reminded her of the way that an hourglass would sit on a table. She draped a warm scarf over her shoulders while she waited for someone to bring her backstage. She was cold, and unhappy with the way her second week in Atlantic City had turned out.<p>

The first was no picnic, but she had still kept the potential for the future in mind, and when the second week showed little promise, she felt her hope waiver.

After sometime on stage she felt ill. She kept her cheeks pinned high and her teeth gleaming while she waited for the band to finish her last number. When the curtain fell she felt her stomach sink further when she realized men had found their way backstage again and there was no one to stop the stranger who let his hand wander her curves. The man was handsome – he seemed to be in a lot of money, and he even had decent manners.

With a little sly flirting Cecelia was able to trick the man long enough for her to slip away unnoticed – but now it was considerably later than usual and she couldn't help but think that sleep would elude her another night. Her immediate thought was alcohol. After kicking off her shoes and throwing a long coat over her dress she made her was down a familiar hall to her favorite closet that always seemed to be flush with booze.

She stole a tall bottle of champagne. The glass was green with a golden foil wrapper, something fancy, with a label in French. Cecelia cradled the bottle and sulked as he walked back to her room.

Her feet were bare, and they glided across the carpet, carrying her back to her hallway where she had to stop short. She now found Richard. He was standing in the hallway pretending to be interested in one of the French paintings on the wall. One that he must've seen several times by now – so Cecelia intently curious on why he was so late, and why he was so nervous.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"_Mm, _something like that. You?"

"Of sorts." She said. She was looking at him now… waiting for him to interject, to apologize, to explain. Richard looked at the glass bottle in her hands.

"If you have company, I can come back later." He told her.

"I had none." She said, "till now."

"Chapmange is for celebrating, I'm sorry for assuming-"

"Richard, you don't need to be sorry." Cecelia inhaled deeply. "I assume Jimmy talked to you."

"He did." Richard responded.

"And… that's why you were late. And now you're here to tell me you won't be around tomorrow night?"

"Uh, well, no. I came to do my job here, tonight, and to inform you I will be here tomorrow night. I apologize for my lateness."

"That say's a lot about you Richard." Cecelia was now smiling, quite happy with his choice of sticking around. "Should we celebrate?" Cecelia asked him tilting the bottle of champagne in her hand.

_"With him?" _they both heard. Behind Richard's shoulder was the same man that Cecelia had escaped from only a short while ago. And she was only relived that Richard was here this time to help her get rid of him.

Like before, he seemed to think that his hands had free range of her body. He walked up beside her and claimed the free space next to her. Cecelia looked at him quite aghast while she felt Richard become slightly uncomfortable. Cecelia stepped away from him, and made it clear that she was uncomfortable. She turned and stepped away from him and now Richard was behind her, and closer to her.

"Don't tell me Frankenstein got you a bottle of bubbly to try and get you to forget his freakish face did he?" Cecelia watched the rich yuppie size Richard from top to bottom. No doubt comparing his black tuxedo with Richards plain suit. "Listen pal, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the pretty lady alone."

Cecelia crossed her arms and finally let her irritation play across her face at the man's stupidity. A look of confusion crossed his face before he realized that perhaps he was the one who had made a mistake.

"I think you should leave." Cecelia said very clearly.

"Don't tell me… did this guy threaten you or sumthin'? Cause doll, you can tell me, I'll make sure he don't show his ugly mug 'round here again."

Without really thinking, Cecelia's arm snapped and clean cut the guy's face. He held the bridge of his nose and check for bleeding while Richard grabbed her arm, although Richard's movements were quick, they were gentle. The man, now angered, reached for Cecelia's throat, but Richard quickly foiled any attempt he may have at hurting her when he thrust the man to the ground and shoved his face against the wall.

Now he was surly to have bruises in the morning, and Cecelia couldn't help but watch while Richard threatened the man with a knife to his throat. And although Richard was protecting her, she couldn't help but wonder what Richard had done to protect her before… _Had Steinzer received a similar fate?_

She found herself cradling the champagne while Richard kicked the man away. He picked himself up off the floor and fled down the hall away from Richard, away from the man that had spared his life. Cecelia heard several more slurs and ugly comments but she tried not to listen while he walked away. Cecelia was now again alone with Richard, who was now a bit flustered and seemed almost embarrassed. He had protected Cecelia from defending him: something he had never really expected to do.

"_Mm, _I guess you do need someone here." Richard told her.

"I need you here." She said while returning to her earlier state of serenity. She placed her hand on his cheek and looked into his only real eye. She gave him a slight smile before asking if he still would like a drink, to which Richard politely declined.

Cecelia returned to her room to strip off the uncomfortable clothes, and while the champagne sat chilling on a bed of ice, she couldn't help but feel stupid wanting to drink alone. But, sleep still did not succumb to her. She lay awake in a silk nightgown with a white sheet covering her body. After hoping that sleep would take her, she decided that it was an endless cycle of begging her body to just give in and let go – something that would not happen. She was used to staying up all night, and it seemed that tonight was a night that she would see sunlight before feeling tired.

She pulled out a blue suitcase that she had yet to open, inside were her books, she had yet to touch them in Atlantic City. She tried to decide between fiction and poetry, and finally settled on a small bound book that contained the fascinating work of T.S. Eliot. Now, Cecelia had learned to read growing up, but it had come from the broken teachings of several maids, and the occasional outside conversation. She could read, but only very slowly – and fiction didn't bother her as much because even if she read slowly, she could still see a story, but with poetry… she couldn't find the real meaning within words.

She peaked out her door to find Richard, still sitting on the couch even after all that time. It was likely quiet enough for him to have left – yet Cecelia was glad he hadn't. She tied her robe tight and found herself sitting next to him. He was surprised at first, he seemed to be distant in thought when she came about and when seeing no sign of trouble he was slightly confused.

"Do you read, Mr. Harrow?"

"Used to." He said. His gravel voice seemed to echo in the silent hallway.

"But you can?" she asked again, more specific.

"Yes... I can."

"Would you?" she politely asked handing him the bound book.

After looking at it a short while Richard took the book from her hands and flipped through it cautiously. "Do you like his poems?" Richard asked.

"I don't know yet, I don't… read well enough to understand them."

"But you speak so well."

"I just… never got enough practice. I talked a lot in my life, but never wrote – didn't read. I learned how but it never became… a skill."

After admitting something Cecelia realized she never told anyone – she began to close her eyes while Richard told her about _'stuffed men.'_

Cecelia didn't give anyone a reason to think she was weak, or to think she was undereducated – but when she told Richard she almost knew that he wouldn't be someone to use it against her. Almost as if he was someone that wouldn't ever hurt her – because she never remembered falling asleep, she never remembered him stopping – she only realized what had happened that afternoon when she awoke in her bed, alone, well rested – and without the usual head ache from a heavy drink the night before.

* * *

><p>Richard again, was alone with is thoughts. He waited now, alone on the couch – he wouldn't leave until morning, just to be sure that that pig didn't come back to try and hurt her. He remembered her immediate reaction to protect him, to fight for him. That compassion hadn't been felt by Richard for a long time; not since before the war.<p>

He let himself smile for a moment, while he was grateful for her eager display of defense, and in return he would ensure that she spent the night safe.

Richard was startled when she came out of her room. He had expected her to be fast asleep by now – but instead she looked restless, and tired. When she asked him if he could read, he almost wanted to lie. He had grown tired of literature and the lack of human connection that Richard believed didn't exist. But when she handed him a book of poetry – he couldn't help but feel curious.

Richard had loved the way a book felt in his fingers, and he had almost forgotten how the pages smelled. And while he read to her – he couldn't help but get swooped back onto the battlefields in France. _Because Richard had been a hollow man. _

Everything within the poem was something he related to, something he knew deep down to his core, and here it was poetically displayed in ink. But instead of feeling pain, and turmoil for his loss in the war, he felt a stab of peace enter his mind for the first time. Because reading this meant that someone somewhere knows what that war was like. Eliot knew that hollow men were brought to the battlefields to fight the other hollow men until someone somewhere was left. He had re-read this poem several times now, a few out loud, and a few just in his head. The soft dozing coming from Cecelia seemed to get him to notice that there was a reality still around him. After looking at the exhausted girl Richard placed the book inside his vest pocket while he lifted her gently from the small couch. Opening the door without waking her was a challenge, but worth it when he realized he had been careful enough not to wake her. For the second time Richard placed this girl back in her bed and covered her body with a warm blanket. And although he did not want to, he left the small book of poetry on her vanity table before leaving.


	7. Singing on the Inside

Cecelia's morning was late, as usual. For the second time she found herself wrapped in her cozy bed, while remembering she'd fallen asleep elsewhere. She had drawn a hot bath to sooth her tired muscles, and for the first time in a while now, she felt rested.

She was dressed that morning in a black dress fitted with a red silk ribbon at her waist. She wore her favorite blacks shoes, and a hat that matched her dress. She slid on a fitted pair of lace gloves before grabbing her handbag and leaving the Ritz. For the first time she was actually going to explore the city. Instead of wallowing in self-loathing, and grief from her friends death – she began to think that to start new, she would have to try. Her coffee stayed sober that afternoon at lunch, and for the rest of the afternoon she spent a hundred dollars on clothing, jewelry, and memorable items. Her last store to visit was a small bookstore owned by the sweetest old lady. Cecelia could've spent hour looking at all the book she had for sale.

After purchasing several Agatha Christie novels she spied several poetry books. At first glance she spied T.S. Eliot, she remembered the way Richard looked at the poem and read it with awe. The first poem he read had been the Hollow Men, and Cecelia had wondered how a man of war would like the poem, but it was all she remembered before falling asleep. His gravel voice dryly spoke the strange words on the page while she was lulled into a restful sleep. She thought he liked it; she grabbed the worn and broken book and purchased it as well.

She herself had enjoyed the poem, but she thought Richard deserved to keep her first copy, the one properly bound with a thick binding and red leather. She would keep these worn pages and gift him the fancy copy that she didn't need. She didn't know why she felt so compelled to give it to him, or why she thought he needed something like this. But still she bought everything and left, heading back for the Ritz. Cecelia had never seen something as beautiful as a sunset on the Boardwalk. There were little things in her life that she was proud and lucky to see – but this, was one of them. After spending plenty of time watching the golden rays peak over the blue ocean she entered the Ritz and headed downstairs to begin to prepare for her show. She wrapped a scrap of red ribbon around her leather bound book of T.S Eliot and set it aside as she got dressed for the evening.

And she smiled when Richard was waiting outside to usher her backstage.

* * *

><p>Richard helped Cecelia support her weight as she carefully stepped down the steep stairs to the back of the stage. Richard was afraid she'd fall with how uncomfortable her shoes looked. But after some time Cecelia was gone from him and on stage. He sat on a tall wooden stool while he watched and directed anyone who tried to find his or her way backstage. Richard needed little help keeping them away, because his face seemed to scare them back to their place. Whether it was their own guilt for not fighting in the war, or utter respect for his duties, he did not know – nor did he care.<p>

When he could he tried to watch the way the light reflected off Cecelia's glowing skin. Her voice was soothing and sultry, like any beautiful woman entertainer should be. He wasn't sure if her voice was what enticed them or her looks. Both were extraordinary, and even Richard couldn't help but feel transfixed. But in an instant he felt stupid for feeling so drawn to someone so beautiful – she was a dame that any guy would pay for, and any guy would give anything jut to spend on night with her. She had her choice of anyone in this place, and Richard looking at her wouldn't make a difference.

Richard somehow had come to terms with the fact that all he had were fantasies in his head, hopes and aspirations that would never become reality. They were only dreams; a wife, children, a family, they weren't real to him. That's why some quiet nights, he'd often dream of killing himself, and even though those thoughts bothered him, he still thought them. He had fought so hard to live during and after the war, it seemed like a waste. That was why he liked these nights with Cecelia, for two nights a week something else distracted him from his darker thoughts leaving him a chance to enter his dream world and think happier thoughts.

Cecelia stepped into his arms so easily after she was off stage, a feeling that was also very odd to Richard. He swept her away before anyone had the chance to crowd the back area, and after leading her upstairs, he was surprised when she pulled him closer, not wanting him to leave.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked.

"No, Ma'am. Thank you." He replied.

"Richard, don't make me drink alone." She begged. "We'll find something good… just… wait here." She told him. Cecelia stepped inside to peel off her dress and throw on her dress from her afternoon stroll. It wasn't night wear, but it was comfortable. She stepped back outside and pulled Richard with her around the next corner. It was particularly busy that night because for the first time she witnessed a waiter pulling a case of liquor out for quests. Richard stopped her.

"I don' think they'd take kindly to you taking their liquor." He said.

"I don't think so either, but lets go find out." She said. Anther hand came around the opposite corner for another box so she took the first door on her left, a familiar closet she had run into before. Richard hid with her while they waited for the hand to leave. She flipped on the light, hoping that perhaps it was extra storage, and something of value would be here… but there wasn't. Only shelves with folded sheets and cleaning supplies sat there. While she listened on the other side of the door she couldn't help but notice that they were forced to be intimately close to one another as they waited for the man to leave.

Richard hadn't wanted to come alone in the first place, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was irritated baby-sitting her like this. She reached behind her and found his hand after a few seconds of blind searching; she wrapped her fingers tightly around his hand, and found that he returned the gesture. She relaxed now, as did Richard as she exhaled a heavy breath weighing on her chest.

After peaking out the door, she exited, dragging Richard with her as she tiptoed down the rest of the hall and peered in the closet. He grabbed a bottle of Bourbon, and held it to her chest as she walked down the hall, with the hand she was still holding of Richards, she draped it over her shoulder so that they'd look like a natural couple walking the lower levels of the Ritz hotel.

She shut the door to her room and began to laugh almost instantly, and she was happy to see a smile on Richard's face. He didn't laugh, but she could tell he enjoyed himself. She poured them both a glass while they each took a seat, she finally had drug him back for another drink.

"Do you… drink a lot?" he asked her.

"Only on days that end with a Y." she laughed. After concluding her joke she answered honestly: "Most of the time."

"Why?"

"Help's me sleep mostly, why Richard? Have something against it?"

"It's only curious. You talk a lot when you've had a few drinks."

"Truth only lies on a drunk man's lips, whatever I said, I'm sure it was true… but… I am sorry if I offended you."

"No, not at all…" he said.

"Cecelia." She added, "call me Cecelia."

"Alright, _Cecelia._" He slowly said along with a slight struggle to sound the second 'c'.

"That's for you." She said after a long pause, she pointed to the little red book next to her mirror.

"A gift?" he asked astounded. "The poems, from the other night?"

"The very same." She told him.

"_Mm, _I can't take this from you." He said shaking his head.

"I bought another, so please, take it." She told him. "As a thank you."

Richard picked up the book and inspected the ribbon like it was foreign. He placed it inside his jacket pocket for safekeeping.

"Thank you." He said, "No one's ever given me a gift since I'd left Wisconsin."

"You're from Wisconsin? What'd you do there?" she asked.

"Lived on a farm, with my sister. But that was before the war, after… _I…_moved to Chicago."

"I almost went to Chicago, came here instead."

"Good choice, I like it here better, in my opinion of course."

"I'm sure I can trust your opinion Richard." She gave him another smile, one that he loved and hated all at the same time. It seemed to melt him… and he hated that – he didn't think he could let his feelings get to him like that. So he looked away.

The silence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Richard quickly stood and prepared his gun. Cecelia was right behind him, but she stopped him from opening the door and pushed him aside to open it herself. Outside was a man, probably not much older than Cecelia. He had sandy blonde hair, and bashful blue eyes. He seemed sweet – he even had collection of flowers in his hands, _for her._

"Evening' ma'am, I thought I'd offer you these flowers and see if you would like any company for the evening."

Although his offer genuine, Cecelia politely declined, ensuring him that her company for the evening had already arrived. He could see Richards arm and the unscarred half of his face as Richard stood quietly next to the door.

"I know another girl would appreciate those flowers as much as I do." she told him.

"Please, keep them…" he told her, "or I could, I could wait if you'd like, until you're finished." He offered again. Richard moved now to intervene before Cecelia stopped him by putting her lips to Richard's. Richard didn't move, he was frozen now, and as she pulled away she could see that the man had gotten the picture.

"Perhaps anther night." Cecelia told him before shutting the door and turning the lock to the right. Richard stood there stunned and unable to move.

Cecelia looked at him at gave him an odd look. She could almost feel the way Richard's heart sped up, and the way his breath quickened. It was intriguing the way that he was such a silent being, yet the way his body acted was so loud. She could almost feel his blood at boiling point as she pulled him closer into another kiss. She found it the oddest sensation kissing him because she could feel his soft lips, and then at the very edge she could feel the cool tin of his mask.

She held him against her for sometime before pulling away for a breath. Richard looked at her, he was convinced that he had to be asleep somewhere dreaming that this was happening – because never would he believe that she would be kissing him so willingly.

* * *

><p>Gillian Darmody had left Jimmy's home in hopes that she would be able to apologize to Cecelia. Gillian had given her up so that she could have the best chance, Cecelia deserved better than her… and Jimmy. But when she got to the Ritz, Gillian wasn't allowed anywhere near Cecelia, standardized body guards wouldn't let Gillian in any of the lower levels on orders from Cecelia herself.<p>

So with defeat, Gillian returned to Jimmy.

"Why should we have to bend over backwards to welcome some girl I don't even know?"

"She showed up here, and I didn't even know who she was, I didn't know she ever existed!"

"I had hoped that someone would've taken and adopted her, given her a better life, I had you, you were my first concern, I couldn't leave you – nor did I want to bring her into our lives. You were having a hard enough time as it was trying to deal with your father."

"So leave her be." Jimmy said.

"No, you're all grown up now, which means I don't have to choose, I can help her if I wish."

"Yeah, well how 'bout next time I see Rothstein, I'll be sure to let him know where his precious New York Princess is staying?"

Gillian gasped – "Jimmy you can't-"

"Leave it mother, there is no place for you in her life, she does not want you there – even you know that."

Gillian felt tears sting her face while she tried to cope with Jimmy's words. If only it wasn't true. Cecelia spited Gillian for a lot of things in her life… and she should have every right to keep Gillian away from her. But Gillian didn't handle the fact that Cecelia hated her… Gillian wouldn't give up. Gillian was all the family Cecelia had, and event though she didn't need Gillian now, there would come a day when she would. Gillian just had to be patient.


	8. Rolling on Intoxicating Tides

The way fingers ran through bristled hair reminded Cecelia of a soft fur coat, one that you couldn't help but run your hands over for hours at a time. She felt the same way now with her hands in Richards's hair, and his hands on her body. She was slightly dizzy from standing, and the alcohol seemed to make her sway.

Richard was dizzy as well, but not from the small amount of Bourbon he drank, but from having her kiss him in the first place, it had shocked him, and he was left even more shocked when she locked herself to him and let her lips latch to his without any intent of leaving. He had been kissing her for a while now, and only just now placed his hands at the small of her back. Her body was already pressed against his; it was like that small kiss had sparked an instant attraction that she was going to peruse until Richard said otherwise.

Cecelia pulled away from him enough to look into his eyes. Richard was shy, but the way he held her back was gentle, and she could tell that he must not have minded being kissed, or he would've stopped a long time ago. Kissing his was gentle, as she didn't want to make him take off the mask, or show she was bothered with by it. She was still able to kiss him, quaintly, and carefully. But after time she felt her stomach begin to burn with desire… and she knew she wanted something more. She tugged on his hand pulling him the short distance to the edge of the bed. Their eyes were locked… some sort of need was flashing within both of them; Richard wanting someone, and Cecelia wanting the same.

Without saying a word, Richard sat… waiting for her. She undid her top of her dress as she stood before him, and the top fell off her shoulders, but the rest still clung to her waist. Richard responded to the gesture by not touching her breasts, but by cupping her hips and pulling her towards him. She carefully climbed atop him and replanted her lips where they were before, although this time she explored a little more. She kissed around the base of his jaw, and left feather light kisses across his check and then down to the scar on his neck.

She slid his brown suspenders over his shoulders before she began to work on unbuttoning his waistcoat. The vest came off quickly, as did the collared shirt; which she softly tossed to the floor. She quickly kissed the flesh that was slightly hidden by his undershirt. She felt him draw in a quick breath through his teeth. His hands found their way up the outside of her thighs, lifting the dress over her hips, and eventually over her shoulders. She was now completely naked atop him, so she slipped off his undershirt so that she could feel his flesh against hers. She could see faint scars; they had healed now, but he likely received them while he was in the war. It only reminded her that he was a soldier, a protector.

She placed her hands on his face; one was flat against his smooth warm skin, the other against the false face that he wore. Her eyes looked into his one, and then she looked at the piece of tin. When he realized she was asking him to take it off, his hands gently grabbed her wrists and lowered them from his face. He didn't meet her gaze again, as he felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. The way Cecelia acted towards him, he often forgot that half of him was fake… she had always seemed to look at him as if he were whole.

She was quick to unzip his pants and bring him back to their original desires. Richard was slightly off guard, after he declined her request he assumed she's stop – but even though he could smell the Bourbon on her lips he lifted her small frame and set her back on the bed.

"Richard make love to me… please…" she gasped. Even if the alcohol was influencing her decisions, at least her wants were honest.

She watched him look at her for a moment before he freed himself and positioned himself at her warm entrance. He pressed into her slowly; at felt pride in the way she wrapped her legs around him after arching her back. She was tighter against him, and she fit him perfectly. Once he felt like he was deep enough he pulled back and then re-entered. He could see her eyes were low, and her breathing shallow. Her teeth were clenched when she moaned his name. Her obvious enjoyment added with the incredible feeling he felt, he couldn't help but feel the knot in his stomach begin to unwind. He kept his place slow; while Cecelia pulled him down to meet her lips. He finished a few moments later when he finally couldn't bare the ecstasy they were sharing.

He fell next to her, unsure of whether she was satisfied or not, but before he could look at her she had wrapped a leg over his and nestled herself under his arm. Cecelia's arm reached across his chest tracing his skin delicately with a fingernail. She was asleep within minutes, leaving Richard unsure of what just happened between them. She seemed pleased, she didn't seem regretful, but whether or not she'd even remember this in the morning was a pressing question. With Cecelia in a soft slumber, he slipped off his mask and placed it on the table nearest to him before shutting his eye, and waiting for morning to come.

* * *

><p>Richard sat up to see that Cecelia was still peacefully resting. The bottle of Bourbon only reminded him that she was unlikely to remember their encounter together, let alone be proud of it. So he slipped back on his tin mask and while hooking the wire behind his ears he sighed. Although he wanted that to happen, he wasn't entirely sure Cecelia had… and that made him feel slightly disappointed. After several drinks of course she wouldn't mind kissing him. Richard dressed, and fixed the collar of his shirt after fastening the final button. He placed his newsboy cap on his head and threw his jacket over his shoulder before carefully, and quietly shutting the door.<p>

* * *

><p>He met Hansen and Briggs upstairs, they were already making a delivery to the Ritz restaurant, and together the three of them would head over to the casino to unload the rest of the shipment.<p>

When he jumped in the truck to accompany them he felt the thin leather book slap against his chest. He pulled it out of his pocket and remembered that Cecelia had given it to him – she must like him to some extent if she went out of her way to give him this copy – which he had so obviously enjoyed. He slid off the red ribbon and opened the book to the beginning, he started reading a poem he hadn't read before, and finished it by the time they reached the casino.

It was only the afternoon by the time they were finished, and Richard decided visiting Jimmy would be in his best interest. Richard hadn't told Jimmy that he was still working for Nucky by watching over Cecelia, let alone tell him about last night. He told himself that telling Jimmy about the job was all that needed to be done. It had been a spur of the moment decision, which he hadn't been able to explain to Jimmy.

* * *

><p>Richard knocked on Jimmy's front door, and was greeted by Angela. She promptly invited him in and sat him in the sunroom, assuring him that Jimmy was just upstairs and would only be a moment. Richard nodded as she left the room. Jimmy showed up a few minutes later.<p>

"I have a meeting tonight, I assumed you'd be coming?" Jimmy asked.

"Hrmm. Yes, I will." Richard told him. "I wanted to tell you that… I would like to keep the job. Hm. The one at the Ritz."

"I told you, I don't like my family around that girl." Jimmy said, pushing away Richards comment.

"I… Hrmm. Could use the extra money." Richard lied.

"Richard…" jimmy looked at him like he was a sad puppy. "You know money isn't a problem. If you need anything I'm-"

"I don't wish for donations, Hrm. I'm not incapable of working."

"What do you need the money for anyway."

"Hm. Normal things, new pieces for my gun, and I'd like a new suit. Hrm. A nice one."

"Richard, I can buy all those things for you." Jimmy said taking a drink of coffee.

"I'd prefer you didn't. What does that make a man? He's capable, but chooses to rely on someone else." Richard assumed Jimmy of all people would understand why borrowing money would never be an option.

Jimmy however was slightly more irritated with Richard than happy, their conversation has ended with Jimmy not really caring what Richard did – as long as it didn't get in the way of his other work. Richard knew it wouldn't he hardly slept these days at all. When he slept he was sad, and when he was awake at least he could direct his thoughts into a happier manor.

* * *

><p>Richard sat out on the beach while he waited for Jimmy to return and collect him for this evening's outing. The sunset had been a sight to see against the waves before him. Jimmy had picked a fine home for his family, a family that Richard greatly envied. Jimmy's son looked up to him for anything and everything, while Angela was always there for him whether he needed food or care. Richard had grown to see them as a beautiful depiction of a family, which only made him feel more alone when he returned to his empty apartment. He tried his hardest not to think too far into things with Cecelia, until he knew what had really become of them. He had made that mistake while in Chicago - it had taken him some time to realize Odette had only been his for a little less than an hour. But eventually he did, and it hurt him.<p>

Later, Richard noted he could still feel the irritation coming from Jimmy while driving into town. The harder fact would've been to explain that Cecelia had taken an interest to him last night. That had precisely been what Jimmy had called her out for: being a 'whore.' And even though Richard now knew she shared her bed with men, he didn't entirely believe that's what she was. She hadn't asked anything from him except for comfort, and she hadn't shown interest in anyone with money. And he couldn't help but compare her to Odette. While Odette had been giving and sweet, there were obvious differences in his experience with Cecelia. He could still close his eye and see that look she had in her eyes; they held obvious desire and want, with her it felt different, with her he felt needed.

Although he silently hoped that when he saw her again, she would show him the same comfort she had before. He hoped that she would remember, and not regret what happened between them; he honestly hoped that what she said about _'truth being on a drunk man's lips,'_ was true, and he hoped that the same saying applied to last night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for being patient on this update, as it being the first major piece of progression in their relationship I had to edit a lot of things and perfect them the way I wanted them to be. Please let me know what you think, thank you.**


	9. Mornings alone with Mother

Cecelia sat up when she felt a curling sensation in her stomach. She violently threw herself into the bathroom to purge the acid that burned her throat. She found her head to be throbbing and a weakness in her stomach. After scouring her teeth and cleansing her face she fell back into bed. The cotton sheet was the only thing still atop her bed, and it was also the only thing covering her naked body.

She tried to focus on the spinning ceiling, but when that didn't work she shut her eyes. She remembered her night, it wasn't vague or forgotten, but it did give her a headache when she tried to fish for more memories. She half wondered why Richard wasn't still here with her, although she assumed it was probably well late into the after noon, and Richard after all did have a job. She let herself fixate on the way he'd been so gentle with her. Cecelia knew he would be. If she had suspicions that he would've treated her roughly she never would have invited him into her bed. But her assumptions were right, and they pleased her. Cecelia Darmody, despite her mother's reputation, had never shared her bed with another man so willingly. She was always more than cautious when looking for comfort – she didn't want to end up in the arms of just any man. Richard she had known for a very short amount of time - which was why she had been slightly nervous inviting him to stay, but she found that he had been everything she thought he would be.

Although she was slightly glad she hadn't woken up next to him, greeting him with a hangover wasn't the most polite "good morning." However Cecelia noted one peculiar thing, although she trusted Richard, she could tell he didn't trust her. He had kept his mask on, not that she minded. But she had a feeling that he kept many different parts of himself behind that mask. Even if they weren't dark secrets, he kept part of himself locked up because no one would ever treat him normally with his deformity.

Cecelia realized that his relationship with Jimmy ran with a deep connection to the war. The way Richard read T.S. Eliot, it was easy to see he enjoyed company or literature that understood him, that he related to. He had been altered greatly by some terrible accident, and now it was a part of him, a big part. And not everyone could relate to the suffering of war.

She wondered about his past, and she wondered about his family. He was so quiet, and so under spoken.

Cecelia's thoughts were abruptly interrupted with a firm knock at the door. She yelled _'just a minute,'_while she attempted to wrap the sheet around her figure. She opened the door only a few inches to see who it was first. When she found Eddie and Nucky Thompson she greeted them and invited them in. They stood inside looking around the room, trying to avoid staring at her since she was not dressed.

"Can I help you Nucky?" Cecelia asked.

"Thought I'd offer you another night. Seeing as how I run out of liquor every time you do a show."

"You should stock up." She told him.

"I plan to." He added.

"As long as you take a third night. Friday perhaps? Eddie Canter has agree to move his show up so you can headline after him."

"Same stage as Eddie Canter? Doesn't he only like dumb girls?" she asked referring to one of his hit numbers.

"As he does, he'll make an exception for you." Nucky said, "please take Friday."

"I'll take Friday." She said.

"I'll send more help too. Is Richard working out okay? He tends to… scare some people off."

Cecelia felt her skin flush. "No he's great, scares away the people I want gone, that's for sure."

"Good then I'll let him know about the extra night, and he can be in charge of the others."

"You… haven't gotten any wind from Rothstein… have you?"

Nucky raised his eyebrow. Well the Luciano kid had been moving some liquor for me, so they know you're doing your show here. Whether he's going to go Helen of Troy on your ass is another story."

"I don't want to cause you too much trouble."

"If you're going to make me this much money, and all I have to do is keep a few New Yorkers away from you, it's worth it."

"Thanks Nucky."

Nucky and Eddie both turned to leave, while bidding goodbye.

"I have to ask though… you don't want Gillian around here either?"

"I… It's really Jimmy that seems to have the problem."

"Jimmy causes lots of problems."

"And he's got a temper." She added.

"Well all Darmody's have a temper, they all don't mind smacking each other a little bit either."

"Don't I know it," she said.

"But don't let him smack you around, I can have you with a black eye now can I?" Nucky and Eddie left, shutting the door behind them. Cecelia now realized that this terrible hangover was probably going to follow her on stage tonight, but she was slightly excited that she'd get to see Richard sooner than expected.

* * *

><p>After wishing she hadn't drank so much, Cecelia cleaned up and dressed herself in a soft gown – the colors were muted, plain, boring. But they matched one of her favorite hats. She could pin up her disheveled hair and hide it away once she had the hat on. It covered her forehead, but she enjoyed the texture tweed fabric that covered it from brim to cap. She put on a comfortable pair of black shoes before she went out to walk away from the pain.<p>

The boardwalk seemed lavish with tourists. All spent the obscene money on taffy or scarves while the regular Atlantic City goers by passed them quickly. They knew better than to buy something on the boardwalk, they would always save more money in town.

Cecelia quickly spun around when she saw her mother exiting a fortuneteller's shop. She was holding a handkerchief to her nose, yet carried herself proudly. Cecelia shut her eyes tight when she heard Gillian call her name. Even though she did not want to, she obeyed her mother and turned around. She found that Gillian had quickly made her way to Cecelia – she looked grim, and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry for Jimmy – It was my fault, I asked him to talk to you-"

"Mother…" Cecelia said interrupting her. She still didn't like the bitter taste left in her mouth after she said that word. "I know. I would've rather talked to you."

"Jimmy's a bit controlling, I can't say that he has the best manners."

"Well I guess you didn't do very well with either of your children." Cecelia stabbed. She saw Gillian's eyes well with tears, and Cecelia found herself regretting her words.

"I did what I could. I had two kids before I was even sixteen. I didn't know how to raise children, I was one." Cecelia began to pull away from Gillian, but she clung to her daughter like she needed help to stand. "Thanks why I left you with your father, I thought someone could raise you, I hoped some sweet family would take you away but they didn't. I really meant for you to grow up right."

Cecelia took pity on her mother. After all, their lives weren't that different, and if Cecelia had gotten pregnant so young she knew that she wouldn't have been able t raise a child. Gillian had two, she could barely raise one, and she truly wished the best for the other – she would have no way of knowing what sort of evil Cecelia would succumb to.

Gillian now looked at her with hope of reconciling any threads left in their relationship. Gillian so desperately wanted to love her daughter, she was already proud of her, and admired her beauty. Cecelia was everything a mother like Gillian could dream of having. Cecelia followed in her footsteps, and if she may say so, did even better than her.

Cecelia held her mothers hand for a moment while she thought about what to do. But her mother began to mention her hands.

"They're rough." Gillian said, "You must work them to death."

Cecelia looked at her hands, the jagged nails seemed to break all the time, they grew furiously and she never stopped to care for them.

"Come on, I'll take care of it." Gillian said. Together the made their way through the crowd, and when they got to the Ritz Cecelia ordered coffee to be sent down to her dressing room. Cecelia took off her hat at allowed her mother to come sit down. She brought a bowl filled with warm water to the table, and from her bag she pulled out a kit that held the necessary tools.

Gillian began to soak them, and file them while both of them sipped their coffee that had arrived shortly after they did. Gillian mentioned how she polished Jimmy's nails every now and then so he'd look sharp.

"He's got a temper that Jimmy." Cecelia said.

"He was just brought up by hot tempered men, and doesn't like being treated like he's a child."

"But he is a child." Cecelia argued.

"That would explain his reputation, now wouldn't it?" Gillian said smiling. "He's a good boy. But you must've done something to make him so mad."

"He called me a whore." Cecelia said, she took another sip of her coffee; it was losing its temperature. "And I may have hit him for it."

"That explains it. He came home telling the three of us to never talk to you again."

"Three? Angela, Tommy, and you?" Cecelia asked.

"Me, Angela and _Richard._" Gillian said.

"He… doesn't want Richard here?" Cecelia asked.

"He didn't want any of us here, but it's not like any of us listened."

Cecelia realized the night after her scuffle with Jimmy was the night Richard was late to arriving. He must've had a hard time deciding on how to handle the situation, but in the end he chose her, something that went against the wishes of his best friend. She smiled slightly, trying not to seem too overjoyed about his silent decision.

"Good. I guess." Cecelia said, acting as though his actions were nothing.

"You know if your performances keep attracting crowds like they are, there's going to be no one left to see my show." Gillian said.

"What are you working on?" Cecelia asked.

Gillian spent the next hour or so telling Cecelia all the plays and stage work she'd done. She told funny stories about the girls and the juicy stories that were going around town. Gillian enjoyed gossiping and spending time with her daughter. Cecelia realized she didn't care much for the small chat, but rather that she wasn't alone for the rest of the day. The time Cecelia spent by herself had become awfully lonely – and she found that Gillian's drabble about friends and actors more than filled the space around her.

Gillian helped her dress for that evenings performance. She admired Cecelia's costumes and dresses. Cecelia rarely spent her money on things other than clothes. She always tried to carry herself like a woman, and the right dress did that for her. Gillian stood amazed that someone like her daughter could look the way she did, needless to say: she was proud.

Gillian was the one to walk her backstage, usually Richard did, and Cecelia found it puzzling that he wasn't there. Perhaps Fridays were no good for him. Or perhaps he didn't want to see her.

Cecelia felt worried for the first time since she's began performing. Richard not being there slightly distracted her and it made her worried. Cecelia enjoyed his company, and perhaps her drunken ways had lead him to believe he had been used, or that he wasn't special to her on some level. Richard had saved her life, she had a soft spot for anyone who did – and now he was the only one. He was the only person to make her feel safe anymore, and his absence made her realize that.

* * *

><p><strong>an: sorry for the sort of filler chapter. I've written the next bit, and I plan to post it once it's edited that way you don't have to wait as long. Thanks for reading and reviewing, it means a lot.**


	10. Night alone with Her

Cecelia ended her show fifteen minutes early, pretending that she had nothing else prepared for the rest of the evening. She mostly just wanted to be off stage, off to wonder and worry about where Richard could be. Maybe she could ask around and find out or perhaps _he was already waiting for her._

She was happy to see Richard standing there, waiting for her. She hurried over to him and gladly took his hand in hers. Richard was pleased to see her acting warmly towards him, she did not look away or seem embarrassed. The crowd didn't seem to notice she left early, it was a new night, and perhaps the Friday show ran shorter. The men just began their usual shuffling, whether it was to try and get back stage or get out was up to them. Richard of course led her away from the hoard of black suits, and up the stairs, their normal route.

"Where were you Richard?" she asked politely, as to show him she was merely curious.

"Jimmy mm, he had me upstate with him, doing business. I'm very sorry I returned so late. Mm. If I would have known Nucky-" he tried to get out all his reasoning, and apology out at once, she could tell he felt badly about it.

"Richard…" she hushed him, "It's quite alright. I understand." She said smiling.

Richard nodded at her as he led her down her hallway, past the paisley couch and across the red carpet, to her door. He stopped short while she opened it, and once she did he stood there, unsure of where she wanted him. He began to tip his hat to her, bidding her a goodnight, and showing that he'd stand guard. Like always.

She playfully laughed while grabbing his hand again and pulling him inside.

"I have the strangest belief that you can protect me just as well in here… as you can out there." She said. Richard shut the door after her comment and proceeded to stand there with the door to his back. He was waiting for some command from her. He nervously played with his hat now in his hands; his fidgeting reflected his inner feelings.

"_What does she want? It couldn't possibly be me."_ he thought to himself.

"Stay with me Richard." she said placing her hands back against his. He seemed to relax at her touch she pulled him to a leather armchair that was a new addition to her room.

She took off her glittering headband that seemed to let a few loose hairs fall around her neck, then she began peeling out each pin one by one. Richard liked her hair when it was down. It looked like she cut it once, bobbed it like the other girls did nowadays. But it had grown out again, leaving it just past her shoulders.

She walked away from Richard, who promptly sat down in the soft leather chair. She tossed the pins on her vanity table before stepping behind her dress panels. She threw the matching dress over the top of the third panel, as the dress was heavy the three panels swayed a bit, but eventually stopped and stood still once again. Cecelia realized being alone with him was causing her hands to shake, she was nervous. Usually a glass of whiskey would calm her nerves, but she hadn't had one yet.

"How was the trip upstate?" she said trying not to sound nervous.

"Just business." Richard answered.

"And was is it you do exactly… for my brother?" Cecelia asked him carefully – knowing that illegal issues were majority of Jimmy's handlings. She already knew Richard transported alcohol, but Jimmy didn't.

"Meeting with old friends."

"You do business with old friends?" she stated. "Interesting. I thought friends always made for bad business."

Richard realized that the mirror opposite her, offered a very revealing view of Cecelia and her current disrobed state. She was peeling off each piece of clothing almost as if she knew he could see her that way. Richard turned away nervously, he felt as if spying on her was something she did not deserve. Although her beauty made it difficult for him to look away, giving her the respect she deserved was what he wanted.

"It can be. But Jimmy's careful."

"Is he now?" Cecelia stated more than asked, the thought of her brother running an illegal business, _carefully_ made her laugh.

She came out moments later after slipping on a black flowing nightgown. It went past her knees and the sleeves stopped at her shoulders.

Richard returned his gaze to her; she was most beautiful with her disheveled hair, and simple nightgown. Without all the embellishments she wasn't overcastted by the extravagance of an outfit or perfect hair, because Richard liked seeing [i]her. [/i]

Cecelia poured herself a glass of the same Bourbon from the other night. The smell reminded her of the earlier morning, but it was all she had, and she needed it. As always, she offered Richard a glass, and as always he refused. She stifled her nerves with a heavy glass that she brought with her as she sat across from Richard.

"My brothers good to you isn't he?" she asked.

"Jimmy has, Mm. been a good friend, yes."

"Then why'd you choose to come back here… even though he asked you not to?" she asked. She could tell that Richard hadn't expected to be asked that question, but Cecelia didn't feel awkward asking.

"I suppose, Mm. I knew you needed me." Richard said. Cecelia finished the last swallow of brown bourbon before she stood up. Richard stood, as his manners were proper. But Cecelia always seemed to find her way to him, they way she fit against his chest made her feel safe. This time he tilted her head up to kiss him, and he lightly left a soft kiss on her lips. Her hands began to toy with his hair, down his neck, and then his ears. The cold wire wrapped around the front of his face to keep his mask from falling to the floor.

"I can't kiss you properly." She said. Fingering the thin scrap of metal. Like before, Richard placed his hands against hers, and pulled her hands away.

"Mm. Someone like you," he began "should never have to see such a thing."

Cecelia looked at him for a moment, giving him a warm, yet hurt look. She wished he felt comfortable with it, but she would wait, because one day he would be. The both looked at each other, the moment becoming lost.

She didn't toy with him or push him further; she just kissed the face she could find. But the feeling of three shows in a row was weighing heavily on her, and Richard noticed her eyelids droop. He held in his arms, and lifted her small frame. She hooked her arms around his neck, while holding the gaze from his eyes.

He set her atop her bed, once his arms were free he pulled back the blanket and sheet and she instinctively slid inside them. Again, Richard was ready to bid her goodnight. He didn't want to keep her up – and he didn't want her to worry about him. But even after all he said, and all he did – he still felt that distinct pull of her hand against his fingers.

"Stay with me Richard." She asked him, tugging on his hand again.

"Mm, I'll come back." Richard said in a hushed tone. Cecelia watched him leave… and he was only gone for a few short minutes. When he returned he locked the door and came back to her bed. After taking off his shoes he laid down next to Cecelia, who was by now nearly asleep. She took the corner of the blanket in her hand and draped half of it over Richard, allowing her to curl against him comfortably, before falling asleep. Richard draped his arm across her back and realized that by the way her chest was moving, she was fast asleep curled against him. For a minute; his hand stroked her bare arm, while he gazed at her pale skin and he wondered if this was even real.


	11. Revealing what is Hidden

Cecelia was only distracted by the sound of rain. For a moment it reminded her of New York and the first run down apartment she had rented. The rain would always give her grief since she was in the bottom room, and the runoff would find it way through the cracks in her windows. She's have to spend time cleaning up the water before she would leave, and when she would return from a night of performing, she nearly would brake her back trying to make it across the warped oak floors.

She was happy to move to the Hotel Elysée and perform almost every night, and return to her bed that wasn't far away. It kept her form having to walk the streets. Tory had been there every night after her performance to keep her out of the hands of grabby men. She was grateful for him and everything he did for her. She first met Tory when she returned to the orphanage after living with her father for six years. many of her friends had left, and she often got teased that she was one of the few children that got "returned" for misbehavior. Obviously, the children really did not know why Cecelia had come back - but she was teased for it nonetheless. Tory stood up for her, he told her that she was a normal person, and that people shouldn't treat her badly.

Tory was the only African American child that never had someone come for him. A lot of colored children would get turned over to the orphanage but only for a few days. There always seemed to be family members that would take the responsibility of raising them. Tory's only distant relatives apparently lived here in Atlantic City, although they didn't even know he'd been born until Tory searched for them after his eighteenth birthday. By then he was on his own, they welcomed him any time he wished, but for reason of attachment Tory chose to stay and help his friend in need.

Cecelia always saw Tory as a guided and helpful friend. Even though she suspected Tory's feelings for her, she knew she could not return them. An interracial couple would cause more than unwanted press for Cecelia's act. She sort of felt like Tory's death was unfair because he never got to love anyone other than her, whether it was like a sister, or like a lover.

She found herself reminiscing about her time with Tory because - now... here... with Richard she felt something new. It was the feelings that she could never return to Tory. She felt like without Richard in her life she'd still be sliding across a wet warped floor. She was grounded with him, and actually happy. She finally felt safe, she had reconciled her relationship with her mother, and perhaps she could be semi-normal.

Her unconventional attachment to Richard had become somewhat of a nuisance to her head. It was easy to think about him, to watch him, to talk to him. It was something she enjoyed greatly. She felt so odd clinging to him like this, almost as if she wondered if she was using him. Perhaps losing Troy had projected her to finding comfort in the next supportive man that came along. But Cecelia shook her head and told herself _no._She hadn't put her trust in the first man, but the right man.

Cecelia slipped out of his grasp and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. Her makeup was smudged, and her hair almost unbearable. After combing her hair she heard distinct rustling outside. She stepped out and found Richard, he was redressed, and he looked slightly tired.

"I'm sorry, I will leave." He said nervously while turning away from her.

"Richard, wait. Don't go anywhere."

Richard stopped, and looked back at her. "I meant. To leave… I'm sure you don't want others seeing me. with you, I meant to leave."

She shook her head, "I wanted you to stay, why would you think I'd want you to leave?"

Richard stood silently, not really sure what to say.

"I had plans today, weren't you coming?" she asked him, "I mean it's perfectly understandable if you have other plans but I thought if you were free you could accompany me around town."

Richard looked at her, wondering if she wanted a bodyguard for around town, or if she planned on an actual… _date._

"I can do that." He finally responded, he had enjoyed spending time with her, and he felt that somehow he did not want it to stop.

Cecelia winked at him and shut the door once more before yelling, _"don't go far."_

* * *

><p>Cecelia spent some time fixing her hair, and makeup. In her bathroom she kept a small bottle of whiskey, one that she took a heavy swig out of before leaving the bathroom. Richard was patiently waiting. Cecelia quickly dressed in a deep blue dress with navy stockings and brown shoes. She placed a brown hat over her pinned hair and pulled on her thick coat and gloves.<p>

The after rain weather was sure to be chilly if not downright cold. But if Cecelia had to spend another day wandering around the Ritz she was going to go crazy. Before they left she went to find the same bottle of whiskey, but it was gone.

Richard had the bottle in his hand; it was pressed against the backing of the book she had given him. He shut his book and stood up. He was taller than her, but he took a few steps towards her before saying: "It's only the morning, mm. I wouldn't think you'd need this." He held out the bottle.

She took it from his and played with the peeling label. "Habit." She said. She looked at the bottle for a minute knowing that she would need a strong drink sooner or later. But she felt slightly embarrassed from getting caught drinking so early, it was a bad habit that she liked, and couldn't get rid of. Somehow she set down the bottle and looped her arm around Richard's leaving the liquor behind.

* * *

><p>Richard felt different walking about with a woman on his arm. It seemed he'd got his usual cautious looks from passers by, but the moment their eyes trailed to Cecelia, he could see them become utterly confused. Cecelia still had her arm looped around his as the walked across the Boardwalk. This was Richard favorite part of Atlantic City. It was a unique tourist spot, and once one the most beautiful he'd seen. Richard lead Cecelia to a small fabric store that she hadn't been able to find on her fist trip around town. She had her face stuck in a visitors map the whole way there, and once Richard nudged her and showed her they had arrived she gave him a grin. Richard enjoyed seeing her happy – she threw away the visitors map in the nearest trash bin before walking inside.<p>

As Richard's only interest in the store seemed to be her, she quickly told the clerk what she wanted. And while they waited Cecelia pleasantly took Richards hand. He liked the way the soft fabric of her gloves felt, and small and delicate he found her hand to be in comparison to his. Cecelia eyed a woman to her left that was giving Richard and odd look. She held onto him tightly and smiled all while they waited.

Cecelia left with several yards of silk, and after sometime about the market district, Cecelia became hungry in the afternoon – and together they stopped in a small café where she ordered a coffee and scone. Richard did not order food, and Cecelia knew why. She ate slowly, and tried to talk rather then focus on the fact that she had food, and he had none.

"Where'd you fight?" she asked.

"Mm." he began. "France mostly."

"Was it beautiful?" she asked.

"Mm. When we got there. Not when we left." He said. Cecelia took a sip of her coffee, she found the taste strange, as her coffee wasn't as Irish as she was used to it being. But she remembered the old taste and added some sugar to sweeten it.

"Atlantic City is the furthest I've been, grew up in New York my whole life."

"I can tell. By your accent." Richard said.

"I guess so. I've always hated it, I sound uneducated."

"But you're very educated." Richard protested.

"Exactly. Runs into problems with men, if you're beautiful and dim witted you become easy prey."

"I don't think your dim, in fact, your mind may scare me a bit. You always seem to think ahead."

"Well that works if I don't have my temper, but thanks to mother that is one of the many charming qualities I've adapted to." She said.

"Your mother, you saw her the other day?" Richard asked.

"Yes, just pure coincidence we ended up right in front of each other."

"I heard you settled your differences."

Cecelia nodded. "Spent the whole day together, she talked… a lot. And I guess… I enjoyed the company. There are a lot of things that I wont ever forgive her for. But there's not a lot to do in Atlantic City on your own."

"Or you'd end up lost." Richard joked.

Cecelia smiled at him and nodded. "Where are we anyway?"

"Close to where I live. But not the best of neighborhoods."

"I see, putting me in danger, isn't that the… opposite of your job?" she asked jokingly. She couldn't help but wonder if Richard thought she had meant it. She had brought him along to talk to him more, not just as a job. "Well where to next?" Cecelia asked.

"With the rain, we'd probably want to start walking back."

"Right, don't want to get caught in that." Cecelia said. "I'll just visit the restroom, then we'll be on our way."

Richard nodded, "I'll be outside."

Cecelia headed to the back of the busy café to fix her hair and check her makeup. For some reason she thought Richard would care if her hat was crooked. She realized it was an old habit, and that Richard wouldn't care.

She ran some warm water over her hands. They had grown cold from being outside. She began to dry her hands when she heard a familiar voice. She recognized it as a woman who had been seated near them.

"Poor thing. If my Johnny had come back from the war all scarred up like that, I don't think I'd be able to look at him." She said. These two women were conversing behind her, as if Cecelia wasn't even there.

"I don't think I'd be able to stand it either, having to take care of my husband, let alone have to look at him like that, I mean it's not good for children." The other woman said.

"Guess she thinks' she deserves an award or something for staying with him. Just because she's still with him doesn't mean she isn't screwing with other men."

Cecelia realized that _she_was now Richard's stay at home, unfaithful wife, who couldn't bare to look at his face. She turned around in time to catch the eye of the taller woman, who noticed her immediately, and preceded to shut her mouth, the other woman however, kept going on.

"I mean some sort of repair job they did on him. That mask doesn't even cover all his scars, honestly she deserved better."

Cecelia tapped the shorter woman on the shoulder who promptly turned around to reveal a horrified look of embarrassment. Cecelia swung her fist so hard into her nose that her glove came back covered in blood. Her friend dropped to her knees to help her now injured friend, and Cecelia turned to flee.

She made it outside to find that the rain had already begun pouring; Richard looked at her, and then back at the street which was now wet with rain. She clutched his arm and asked: "Well what now?"

Richard's attention was drawn to her hand now clutching his arm.

"You're hurt." He said.

Cecelia looked down at the glove dotted with blood, and yanked it away.

"It's nothing." She responded looking back into the café, she could see others rushing in the back to help that woman. "We need to leave, now!" Cecelia said with urgency. She ran into the rain, and Richard followed, on the other side of the street Richard placed his hand on the small of her back and lead her away from that part of town. Before she had a chance to calm down she realized they were at a small apartment building, a few blocks away, this was where Richard must live.

She was slightly appalled that Jimmy, the man who owned his own car, and beach house, would allow his 'best friend' to live in such an unhappy place. Several homes were boarded up from lack of tenants, there was trash in the streets and people huddled in alleyways. Cecelia felt a sense of relied when she felt Richards arm pull her tighter to him, ensuring that she stayed very close to him.

She protected her bag of silk from the rain as Richard led her inside the building. The inside had been better kept, perhaps by a tedious landlord. Cecelia tightly wrapped her fingers around his hand once they were out of the rain.

"I didn't know where…" he started, feeling awkward now that she had seen his home. "You seemed like you wanted to get away from that place, what happened?"

Cecelia looked at him and looked away, embarrassed by what her temper had caused.

"I understand if you don't-" Richard started before she interrupted.

"-That man." She said, taking a long pause, "The first night you helped me, remember?"

Richard looked around for a moment before nervously answering, "Mm. Yes."

"Did you kill him?" she asked looking directly into his eye. With others beginning to enter the building her grabbed her blood covered hand and led her upstairs. She followed him down an unlit hallway to the end door, which he quickly opened. He gestured for her to enter first. She stepped inside; his living space seemed to reflect the part of him you could always blatantly see. A pale complexion plagued the room along with the occasional used piece of furniture. The walls were practically bare, except for a few tears in the yellow wallpaper. She realized what few possessions he actually owned, it was like he was only stopping through town – never staying, like he hadn't planned to.

Richard locked the door, before turning back to her. He felt more embarrassed now knowing that she had seen his plain home. She was an extravagant woman – and all the monotone color lacked vibrancy, while the emptiness was probably unsettling.

While her eyes circled the room Richard stood, and waited.

"Well?" she asked, facing him again.

Richard looked away, again, not ready to tell her the truth. But he was stifled when she stood in front of him, speaking calmly.

"I don't care if you did, Richard." She said.

There she went again, saying his name. It only reminded him that a beautiful girl knew his name, now she was asking if he was a killer, and for her, he did not want to be. Both her gloved hands were on his face now, holding his gaze, forcing him to look at her.

"Am I to understand you would do anything to protect me?" Cecelia asked.

After a long pause and a swift head nod, "Mm. Yes." He answered.

Cecelia raised her glove and with the other hand she touched the dark stain before sliding the glove off to reveal her now, slightly bruised hand.

"Then I guess we're at an understanding for each other." She said while making a fist. She took off the other glove and placed them in her coat pockets before sliding the coat itself off. Richard took her hand and tenderly tested the bruising.

"I can. get you ice." He said while gingerly touching each knuckle.

Cecelia's mouth spread into a wide smile before pulling at Richard tie leaving him little to struggle with. She kissed him, and while she felt the uncomfortable scrape of metal against her soft lips – she didn't mind it. He had shown her a lot just by bringing her here, and she didn't want to push him further.

Cecelia pulled away. For a moment, she was confused, she was actually nervous. She could feel her stomach was now fluttering, her cheeks were flushed, and her hands were shaking. _'A day to stop drinking.'_she thought. Usually her abundance of confidence came from several glasses of whiskey. But now what little she had was surely gone and for the first time in a long time it was just her, and one other person.

Richard looked down at her slightly sad that she had stopped kissing him. _'Had I done something wrong?'_ His hand sat on her shoulder before softly falling back to her hands. Cecelia felt odd that she could no longer compel herself to slid off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Richard held her shaking hand and wondered why it wasn't him that was nervous. Granted just being in her presence made him nervous, not to mention his constant worry of what she wanted or whether she was impressed or not. But this time Richard was the one who knew what he wanted, it was _her. _

"Have I. Done something wrong?" he asked her.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm only shy."

Richard brought her closer to him, the way he liked to when they were in a crowded area. It was special to Cecelia how delicate he was with her.

"I will. Hm. Get you something for this bruising." He said.

Cecelia laughed slightly, "It's not like I'm the one with the broken nose."

"Then what. Do you need me for?" he asked, trying to smile.

"I need you more than you know." She said cupping his cheek again with her cold hand. "I don't think I could trust anyone else with my life."

"I did." Richard said. "Kill that man." And almost as if he were ashamed, he looked away from her. Cecelia knew that she suspected it – bootlegging and gangsters tended to actually use the weapons they carried around for safety. But knowing what had happened didn't bother her, she only cared that he spared her from a terrible fate.

She shivered from having her wet hair and lack of sleeves. She could've put her coat back on, but she liked the fact that Richard rushed to retrieve her a blanket to drape around her shoulders. The heater in his apartment made no noise, so Cecelia assumed it didn't work, or if it did, very poorly.

While Richard stood away from her, Cecelia waited to see if he had anything else to admit to. But she could now tell that he was embarrassed for telling her, it was a part of him he knew he should've kept hidden.

"I said I didn't care, you know." Referring to her earlier statement. She pressed herself against him looking for extra heat, "you _did_save me that night Richard. I don't care what you did," she paused, "or what you do."

"I. Mm. My purpose was to get lost. After the war. And I did. You shouldn't be with someone like me."

"Why Richard? Because you're not a modeled citizen?"

"I'm only half here. In ways."

"Because you choose to be. You hide more than scars under that mask."

Richard touched the tin to his face, never before had he met someone who knew there was more to him than he let on. Every assumed he was this shell-shocked veteran that had nothing but scars on his face. Somehow she knew he hid so much more, afraid to be who he wanted to be with a tin mask, and because of that, he felt like he had let her down in some way.

After stepping away from her, he was able to lift his arms and detach the thin metal wiring from behind his ears. Cecelia leaned against the pale wall while Richard carefully handled the piece of tin. He set it down on the table nearest him, letting Cecelia see that to himself he was only a monster.

Cecelia watched as he became timid and nervous in a matter of seconds. She could now see that the scars that peaked out from his mask lead to deeper wounds. An empty eye socket was where she was first lead; the dark crevice saddened her, as she never thought she could bear to lose her sight. At least he had one working eye, one to lead him across town, one to see her with. Then the dark scar across his cheek eventually just became a gap that became part of his mouth. She could see now why he refused to eat or drink in front of her, it would offer all kinds of awkward acts just to swallow properly.

"It's okay. If you're afraid." He said.

Cecelia found herself clinging to his tie once again as she inched herself closer to Richard. She was shaking her head no before she kissed him again. She realized the nervousness she felt was something she should experience. She would've regretted having hazy memories of this moment with Richard. There was something so intimate about how he admitted that he wasn't good enough for her, or how he had kept a large part of himself buried deep inside. She still felt nervous kissing him and pulling off his coat, but she realized that if she stopped, she'd only want to start again.

Richard pulled her blue dress over her head while she feverishly worked at unbuttoning his shirt. After unhinging the clasps to her fastener he was able to hold her naked body against his chest. With a swift lift he sat her on top of his desk her legs instinctively wrapped around him while he began to softly kiss her neck.

Cecelia noticed he was still gentle with her, yet everything seemed so much more heated, whether it was her clear head or Richard letting go of something, she wasn't sure, but she found it to be the most pleasurable experience she'd had yet – and he still had his pants on.

Her hands quickly began to claw at the belt that was still tightly fastened. Richard allowed her to gently stroke him after her hand at found its own way down his trousers. Her playful teasing was nice at first, but once he realized the woman in his arms wanted him, _needed him._He could see no point in keeping her waiting. He lifted her up, carrying her against his chest, he held onto his pants to keep from tripping before he set her down on the bed, once she was on her back looking up at him, he held her gaze while kicking off his shoes and letting the rest of his clothing fall to the floor.

He took a moment to look at Cecelia who was looking back at him. He didn't see fear, or disgust, but perhaps lust. An emotion he had not had much experience with. He had never needed to please someone, or see a look in someone's eyes that said they desired him. But just the perfect way she arched her back against him and said his name gave him chills. For a moment he felt as if he wasn't scarred, because she looked at him like he wished others did. She looked at him smiling, happy, and with yearning.

Cecelia wasn't afraid of the way Richard looked with out his mask, if fact she was enthralled by the way he had opened up to her. She was finally glad to kiss him properly without the uncomfortable scarp of metal. She was smart enough to know that everyone had scars. Scar tissue was healed skin, it was healed, and she found herself being glad that he wasn't hurt worse. She was happy that he was only injured, and not incapacitated, or she would've never met him.

And through out Cecelia's life she had been wearing of friends being close to her, or getting closed enough to love someone – but she strangely realized she cared a lot for Richard, and she was oddly comfortable with him touching her, seeing her naked, kissing her, and making love to her. Never before had she been able to become so close to someone like this. She realized that with Richard she didn't need the normal amount of alcohol she consumed a day. He made her happy without it, and she could see and feel so much more when she wasn't numb from the alcohol. She could feel the way his skin glided across hers, the way his rough hands caressed her hips, and the way he could kiss her now. She could look at him and feel passion radiation between them and she never wanted it to end.

She couldn't help but kiss the scar on his neck and she could a low grumble from his mouth. Richard could hear her breathing quicken as she said his name over and over again. He could feel her tighten around him, and that sent him over then edge. He buried his face in the pillow next to her head while he finished after her. His fists dug into the sheets and he could feel her nails drag across his skin. They each lay unmoved for a long time. Eventually Richard rolled over to have Cecelia next to him, and she immediately curled her body against his. He stroked her arm softly while he could feel her warm breath run across his chest. He was slightly shocked that a happy memory had occurred in his own home – a place he had thought to be a sad an unwelcoming place. But now every time he would look at his plain bed he would see her on top of it.


	12. Men are only Dogs

Richard awoke a few hours later to a sleeping Cecelia on his bare chest. It was still Saturday, but the sun had now gone down and the storm had cleared away. Leaving the night Atlantic sky to twinkle above the roof. He ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back. He looked up and realized his mask wasn't on his face; it was across the room, on a table. He remembered showing her the scars and damage to his face, and then he delighted in remembering how affectionate she was following the reveal. Richard guess Cecelia really didn't care, she had looked at him with sadness for a moment, but the way she kissed his scars, and looked at him on top of her, made him think that perhaps she didn't really see him the way others did.

He realized that he hadn't eaten all day out of embarrassment for how he looked. He steadily sat up and slipped out from under her sleeping grasp. He redressed and placed his mask back on his face, fastening the wire behind his ears. In his small kitchen he took an apple and a plate of food that Angela had sent him home with. He quietly ate, hoping that Cecelia could sleep as long as she wanted to. Though, after some time alone he heard her rustling around. He stood with his last slice of apple in his hand and walked over to the doorway. She had gotten up and pulled out the fabric she had bought earlier and draped it over her naked flesh. She smiled at him.

Cecelia liked the way the imported fabric felt against her skin. The fabric was cool, smooth, and it glided across her back as she slid the fabric off. She was standing naked before him now, hips angled, silk in her hands. Richard bashfully looked away, but she came up to him and put her hands on his neck stealing a quick kiss.

She pressed herself against him while she shut her eyes to take in what was around her.

"Morning." She said before squinting her eyebrows, "Evening." She corrected herself while looking out the window. She waited for him to do something say something, but he seemed quite bashful due to her causality of being naked in his apartment.

"Richard, say something." She said touching his cheek again.

"You're. Mm. You are very beautiful. Cecelia."

She smiled at him. And for some reason she couldn't stop. She kissed his half lips and pulled back to look at Richard who was now slightly smiling back at her.

"What time is it?" she asked looking around for a displayed clock.

"Almost eight." He said.

"Fancy a walk?" she asked. "Aren't weekends on the Boardwalk supposed to be spectacular for tourists?"

"Yes. From. What I hear. If you dressed-"

"Or… We can stay here the rest of the night, and then I wouldn't need to dress." she said while wrapping the silk around the back of his neck. "Or I could dress myself in your arms… I think I'd like that better Mr. Harrow."

* * *

><p>Cecelia spent the rest of the weekend lying around with Richard. She had enjoyed being away from the Ritz, and being somewhere quiet. Richard told her what it was like to grow up on a farm, while she struggled to relay what it was like growing up in an orphanage. She left out the part about living with her father, she hadn't drank since she'd been with Richard, and she didn't want to have to start again on account of talking about her father.<p>

Cecelia was quite intrigued that Richard had left his home town to travel all the way to Chicago… just to get lost. The war affected him greatly, and Cecelia could see that. The both of them were dealing with traumatic pasts, and looking for someone who didn't judge them.

Richard's injuries was almost what appealed to Cecelia in the first place, not the physical scars on his face but the way his injuries had made him. She had taken a liking to him because his past had put him in a place where he didn't seem to look at her like a lap dog, he saw a girl, which was all she was. She was familiar with the look of lust and greed that she saw every performance night, but the moment she saw Richard, those looks went away. She didn't feel a cold gaze like the rest of them, she felt warmth with him, he saw her differently.

The way she acted most certainly seen by Richard as well. He mentioned how his sister still cared for him after the war, but he still could tell… tell she felt different. Bt with Cecelia… he felt that she saw a whole man; one that didn't rely on a German sniper mask to feel safe, or one that could form a whole sentence without struggle.

So almost as if they were made for each other, they spent the next few nights together, the weekend in his bed, and the week in hers. Jimmy had taken him during the daytime, and even once late into the night. But Richard finally accepted that she wanted him there, that he was the only thing that made her feel safe.

* * *

><p>Another performance night was finally here, and Cecelia found trouble getting ready as she was blatantly distracted by the man in her bed. She was only wearing <em>his<em>red tie around her neck.

"What if I went like this?" she asked putting her arms out. Richard's back was against her headboard and Cecelia was straddling his lap. He looked her naked body over once before shaking his head. "Why not?" she asked.  
>"I'd rather. They didn't see you like. This."<p>

"Why not… it's just skin?" she said teasing him, although quite aware of what he was saying. She saw how he thought about saying something else, but kept it to himself.  
>"Perhaps… you don't want me doing that because… you don't wish them to see something <em>you see as yours?<em>"

She smiled when Richard nodded his head. She slipped off his tie and tossed it beside them.

"Then I'll wear something on stage, and only look like this for you." She said kissing his neck.

"Shouldn't, you be Mm. Getting dressed?" Richard asked her.

"I should, I just… don't want to leave." She said. "Could I stay here? For a bit?"

"Mm. You could."

"How about forever? Do you have time for that?" she asked.

"For you. Yes."

"Then it's settled we'll never leave, do you think we can get someone to bring us food in this bed, because if we're never leaving it will be awfully difficult not to starve. Of course… you taste just fine – I can live off of you for a while."

Richard almost seemed to blush. She liked his smile, she liked it better with his mask off. He seemed to take it off when they were alone or intimate. He also didn't seem to like it on at all, it seemed to bother him and cause him discomfort. But Cecelia was glad he'd take it off for her now. She was kissing the scarred side of his face when she heard a knock at her door. She turned to look at the door, as if she'd figure out who it was before it was opened. She got up to put her robe on, and she became intensely irritated the moment her feet hit the carpet. Richard however was slightly unnerved; he grabbed her arm to stop her from opening the door.

"What if it isn't safe?" he asked her. "Let m-"

"You'll just have to get revenge for me then, won't you? I'm highly capable of sending someone away, if they don't leave, then you are welcome to intervene." She gave him a smile as she slid out from his grasp to walk over to the door that was being knocked upon for the second time.

"Hold on!" she yelled while tightly tying her robe in the front. She watched Richard fasten the button on his trousers and throw his suspenders over his unbuttoned shirt, which he was quickly tucking in. She admired his fit body from a distance; she admired the strength in his arms, and the definition in his stomach. He hadn't let his fitness from the war escape him, he was the precise type of man you'd want protecting you when strange men showed up at your door. Richard was till buttoning his shirt when he slipped behind the door and Cecelia was opening it.

"Charlie." She stated, now able to see who it was.

"Cici D." he said back with a smile. "Seems Atlantic City's been good to you." She watched his eyes linger up and down her body, Charlie Luciano had always had an eye for Cecelia. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

"What do you want Charlie?" she asked firmly placing her foot behind the door. Neither her, nor Richard would allow him to enter.

"I came on behalf of A.R. He wanted me to kindly request that you return to New York City, as soon as possible."

"Oh Charlie, You can tell Rothstein that I'm quite happy here, and I decline his request."

"I thought you might say something like that." Charlie said smiling.

"Don't I always?" she asked.

"You never do what you're told, that's for sure." She watched Charlie gaze down the hallway, "Nice place ya got here, I think I'll stay for the show."

"You do that Lucky. I'll see ya 'round." Cecelia shut the door on Charlie's luminous stare. He had puffed on his cigarette like none of this bothered him, Rothstein had sent him to ask her nicely, who knew how long it's take before Charlie was forced to get rough. However, Charlie had always been sweet on her, letting her off on little things here and there.

She looked at Richard and shrugged her shoulders. She could see his steady hands hidden beneath his coat, probably fingering a pistol, ready to protect her. The hair on her neck stood up when she could see how ready Richard was to defend her.

"I suppose I should get ready." She said in a hushed tone. She let her hands run down the front of his vest as a slight, _thank you, _before she disappeared into her closet.

* * *

><p>Cecelia's finished performance was busy as always. While on stage she recognized Charlie's face, as well as that of Nucky Thompson, and several of his colleagues. And she wasn't surprised that Nucky ushered her over for a drink. She felt better when Richard followed her through the crowd, keeping a close eye on her. She watched as Nucky left his small group of friends and singled her out among the crowd. He handed her a glass of classy champagne.<p>

"As always, spectacular performance. I'm glad I gave you Fridays, last week pulled in a lot of cash. They all come to see you." Nucky told her.

"That's nothing new." Cecelia said, "Men have been gawking over me since I've grown breasts."

"Well thank god you did." Nucky glanced across the crown and once again saw 'Lucky' Luciano, "Did you uh, see your New Yorker friend over there?" Nucky asked her.

"Earlier yes, he paid me a visit."

"To your dressing room?"

"Yes, but I had Richard there to protect me." She said smiling. "Charlie seems to be playing nice… for now."

"You really think A.R. will haul you all the way to New York kicking and screaming. I could if he got the chance, but I think you've given me enough body guards to make that difficult for him."

"Good. I'd like to keep you as long as I can."

Charlie Luciano had made his was across the crown to Cecelia and Nucky.

"You performance, it's got a few new bit's to it, I like it."

"I hope, this conversation is for congratulation only?" Nucky asked.

"Unfortunately A.R. sent me here on business." Charlie said. "He… likes to think that Cecelia is _his_business investment, and would like her back."

"Well we both know-" Nucky began.

"-that's not going to happen." Charlie finished. "But Cici, A.R. would like me to remind you of the debt you owe him. He says you should remember that."

"I thought you didn't owe Rothstein and money?" Nucky asked, now slightly irritated.

Cecelia gave Charlie a look of discontent, "I don't." she said. "I don't owe him anthing."

"Our Cecelia is right, on one account." Charlie said, "If she owed A.R. money she wouldn't have lasted a week in Atlantic City. However she is fully aware of her arrangements with Mr. Rothstein, and I am only here to remind her of that fact."

"I see." Nucky said, eyeing her suspiciously.

Cecelia looked at Nucky, trying to plead that he understands the truth. "My arrangement with Mr. Rothstein has been entirely repaid by my services, and if he thinks that I owe him anything, _anything_more, he is entirely mistaken."

Charlie now looked at her slightly angered, yet Cecelia was entirely content due to the fact that She could feel the front of Richard coat on her back, he had stepped foreword the moment he noticed any change to Charlie's demeanor. And it seemed Charlie was slightly halted by the masked man that protected her.

"Perhaps you better head back to New York before the roads get too bad Mr. Luciano. As we all know you are in short supply of manners."

"Mr. Thompson, Ms." Charlie said nodding his head before disappearing into the crowd.

"So I assume A.R.'s just a little jealous then? You wouldn't lie to me would you Cecelia?" Nucky asked her.

"I told you what Rothstein wanted from me, something I am entirely not willing to give, and something he sure as hell didn't earn. If anything he's jealous Atlantic City's getting all my attention."

"But you don't owe him money?" Nucky asked.

"Never owed him a dime."

"Then get your ass upstairs and get some rest so you can make me more money tomorrow night."

"Yes, Mr. Thompson." Cecelia said smiling and finishing her champagne. She took comfort when Richard kept his hand at her back while leading her back through the crown of men who wanted to do more than look at her. Perhaps it was her youth, maybe her beauty, but whatever it was drove them mad like dogs.

She slightly pitied them for being such physical creatures. She was sure many of them were willing to cheat on their wives without a second thought. She couldn't stand the thought of having a husband only to suspect him of being with another woman, and something told her she'd never feel that way with Richard; almost as if he was genuine from the very surface. And she liked not having to guess what kind of man he'd be everyday – because it seemed that he'd never lie, cheat, or hurt her.

Her _dear_brother on the other hand, Cecelia had no idea what sort of man he was - but she had the sneaking suspicion that he had been the one to tell Rothstein and Lucky all about her performance at Babette's... not many others even knew where her dressing room was. And she doubted Lucky Luciano was lucky enough to just guess where her room was.

Family was definitely as thick as blood, but there were other things just as thick. Like poison, which was just what Jimmy reminded her of. The only thing she couldn't figure out was how Richard could stand him.


	13. She Started A Fire

After another long and eventful night, Cecelia had fallen asleep curled in the crevice of Richards arm. He hadn't quite had the courage to pry into her past. Both of them had willingly shared parts of their past, but she had done that on her own accord, and he thought asking would be rude. Richard was smart enough to tell however that there must be a lot more to her past then she let on. He didn't know why she didn't tell him about it, but he hoped she would with time.

Her body became warm against his chest and her could feel her chest rise and fall. Again, he wasn't used to the feeling of someone laying against him… for comfort. He hoped that she was in her right mind with him, it would only tear him apart completely to find out that she didn't actually care about him. Which was why he was so cautious in letting himself think she would be around long enough to love, or even to marry. After all that was really all he ever wanted.

As usual when Richard let his mind wander it would begin to settle on the war. Some cold nights he'd feel like he was back at a station, waiting for a target. He sometimes envied the men on the frontlines because at least their work was constant, at least they were always moving. But for Richard, it was lying motionless in the mud... waiting for your target to show itself, looking for the perfect opportunity to strike. The work was long and strenuous; holding your rifle for hours while you could only hope another man didn't have his sights on you. It left you alone with your thoughts. It left you with feelings of death, and sorrow. You spent weeks on end waiting to end someone's life, fearing for your own, and missing your loved ones back home. Richard couldn't count how many times he had dozed off dreaming about home. And now the same thing would happen when he finally was home, only he'd doze off and dream that he was staring down the scope of his rifle.

He was being shaken, he was now wide-awake, terrified from his dream. He could feel how the sweat made his shirt cling to his skin. He could feel Cecelia's hands on his face, and her breath, she was asking him if he was alright, _what was wrong?_

He closed his eye and tried to get a grip on where he was, why he was here, and whom he was with. He struggled to calm down even when he realized he was in a soft bed, and safe. He realized he was holding her wrists, tightly, he was gripping them like if he let go... he'd become lost. But he _did_let go, as not to hurt her. He sat up, away from Cecelia. He felt embarrassed, like he often did with her, the way he acted, the only way he could act. He rested his head in his hands, and without his mask on her could feel the damage that had been done by the war, he almost wished it was only a bad dream but he knew that it was all too real.

He felt Cecelia's hands glide up and down his back, something he found soothing. He could tell she was worried about him.

"Sometimes." He began, "I just wish. I could forget."

_"Hush…"_she whispered. "It was only a bad dream, you're not there. Not anymore." she said into his ear.

"You. Don't have to carry me, as your burden. I know that. I'm messed up."

"Richard. _shh._Don't say that. You are not a burden, you can't change what happened to you."

"Mhm. I wish. I could." He said.

"But then how would I have met you?" she asked. "You'd still be on a farm somewhere, you would never have seen Atlantic City, or Chicago… or me."

Richard could feel his instinct telling him to leave he didn't know what really to say to her. She was so kind to him, and obviously caring.

"I'm sorry." He said. His embarrassment made him want to get up and leave. But Richard was starting to let himself need her. The way her nails were scratching his neck and back made him relax, it grounded him, and brought him home. He closed his eye and tried to think of something peaceful, an empty beach, his home, his sister. But a lot of what clouded his thoughts was Cecelia. The way she had climbed under his skin was so unnatural. He hadn't expected it – for so long he'd been alone, but… for the first time since the war, he was actually letting someone in.

He laid back down against Cecelia, who was wide awake worried about him. He kept his eye closed while she ran her nails lightly across his chest. And eventually Cecelia saw that he was taking deep breaths once again.

* * *

><p>Cecelia's second performance night was the first that didn't seem so crowded. It had been the night of a big boxing match, leaving many men already drunk in the streets, however there were familiar faces. She noticed Gillian, standing with Jimmy, and she made a mental note to avoid them at all costs. But even though Cecelia would avoid them – she couldn't help but note how pleased Gillian looked, and how coldly Jimmy stared at her. She knew on some level Jimmy had to be interesting, or kind, or anything other than the only cruelty she'd seen. Richard spoke very highly of him, and often. Cecelia knew that Jimmy must just see her as an outsider, but perhaps because of the type of outsider she was, that was why he was so willing to keep her far away from his family.<p>

After singing a few songs and making her way in and out of the crowd she was exhausted and ready to make her way upstairs. She disappeared behind the curtain and met Richard's gaze almost instantly. She was curious who was talking to him though; most people didn't approach him, especially women. Cecelia watched as Richard walked over to her offering Cecelia his hand. The short woman followed him, and Richard introduced her as, Angela.

"I'm Jimmy's wife." She said with a grin on her face. "I've been wanting to meet you."

"Angela! Of course!" Cecelia said pulling her into a hug. "It's about time I got to meet you. Gillian told me a lot about you."

"All good things I hope?"

"Of course! But she didn't do your beauty justice. Come! Have a drink with me upstairs?"

"Well the show just ended… I suppose Jimmy will be looking for me." Angela said worried.

"Ohh _right._Jimmy isn't that fond of me." Cecelia said. "I wouldn't want to get you into trouble."

"It's okay, I was just telling Richard how odd Jimmy's been lately. I'm sorry if he did anything to hurt you." Angela said.

"Darling, it's nothing I'm not used to. He doesn't scare me, if he doesn't scare you… perhaps we should all have that drink? Hm?" Cecelia coaxed.

Angela tried to look through the curtain to see if she could see anything about the crowd. She could hear commotion, laughter; perhaps she could get away with just one drink.

"Oh I suppose just one!" Angela said smiling again. Cecelia took her arm, like she often did Richards. Not only was she interested in getting to know Angela, but in making Jimmy mad. Richard followed them upstairs, but only because Cecelia had reached behind her and found his hand, like that night they were hiding in the closet. She liked Richard close.

The three of them ended up in her room, "Come'on you have to tell me all about my brother." Cecelia said.

"I'm sure I can't tell you anymore than Richard could…" Angela said.

"Oh please, a wife would know her husband better than anyone." Cecelia said handing her a glass of poured scotch.

"I don't drink often…" Angela said when she made a sour face after taking her first drink, "and usually its just champagne."

Richard had chosen to stand awkwardly against the wall; he hadn't said anything since introducing Angela. Cecelia felt that perhaps he thought this wasn't a good idea either. Richard knew that Gillian had spent time with Cecelia since Jimmy's demands. He had irritated Jimmy just by asking first, but now everyone but Tommy had been around her – and Jimmy wasn't going to be happy about that.

And just as Cecelia expected, there came a knock at her door. Both Angela and Richard looked at it suspiciously. Cecelia made her way to the door and opened it slowly. Gillian and Jimmy both stood out in the hallway, Gillian had a similar look on her face that Cecelia had found on Angela's, and Jimmy, although calm – seemed to be mildly irritated.

"Jimmy!" Angela said, "I was having so much fun telling your sister here about Tommy and how we met."

Without looking away from Cecelia, Jimmy addressed his wife: "Angela we'll be going now, Mom, you too."

"Why Jimmy? Don't want to spend time with me?" Cecelia asked. Even though Jimmy did not think of her as his sister, he still had no problem fighting with her as if they were siblings.

"You're not my sister." Jimmy said shaking his head. Everyone stayed quiet after Jimmy's comment. Cecelia stepped out into the hall joining Jimmy and Gillian. "Leave my family and friends alone why don't ya?"

"Make me Darmody." Cecelia said, egging him on.

He took the cigarette from his lips and twirled it between two fingers.

"What? Don't want to hit me again in front of mommy?" Cecelia asked. She was sort of hoping that Jimmy would lose his cool, if he did, he'd have nothing to go on – no reason to keep Richard from her. "Don't want to cause trouble?"

"Nucky told me Lucky stopped by, paying you a personal visit. I think I can assume you're in enough trouble of your own." Jimmy said.

"Jimmy let's just go." Angela said walking out of the room to Jimmy's side.

"Richard, you too." Jimmy added.

Cecelia felt the airs on her arms raise when he said Richards name, she _needed_Richard, not Jimmy.

Cecelia stepped foreword invading Jimmy's space. "Cissy baby, why don't we just go inside and we'll talk about the show, and Jimmy can move along." Gillian tried to offer, but Jimmy held up his hand.

"Nah Ma. You're comin' home with us. Don't you remember? You're watching Tommy in the morning."

"Ah Tommy. And when do I get to meet him?" Cecelia asked.

The mention of Jimmy's son was what sent him over the edge. Like before he slapped her. It was forceful enough to knock her head back against the wall. And as Richard pushed Jimmy away from Cecelia, she couldn't help but smile.

Richard was holding his hand back so he could not strike her again, and both Gillian and Angela made their way to Cecelia to see if she was alright. Cecelia's plan had worked, and Jimmy had been dumb enough to take the bait. Now everyone was worried for her, and appalled at him.

She heard Richard say: "She _is_your sister. I would. Never hit my sister."

"Jimmy how could you!" Gillian asked while placing her hands all over Cecelia's red cheek. "I taught you to never hit a woman!"

"You never said anything about my sister." Jimmy said, "In fact you never said anything about her at all."

Gillian gave him a glare while her and Angela were checking for any other injuries.

"She's bleeding." Angela said. "How could you do this Jimmy?" she asked as her hand pulled away from the back of Cecelia's head. Her finger tips were doused in blood.

"She needs to go to the hospital." Gillian said. Jimmy was slightly puzzled when he saw the concerned look on Richards face when Gillian spoke. It was a look that worried Jimmy, worried him that his _sister_had sunk her devious claws into him as well. To him Cecelia was a threat, and now everyone he called family was concerned for her, and irritated with him. She was sly, and smart, that was for sure.

After Jimmy stopped struggling, Richard came over to check on Cecelia's injury as well.

"She'll need stitches." Gillian said. "Jimmy go home."

"Fine, my wishes to you for a speedy recovery." Jimmy said sarcastically. He reached inside his coat pocket to pull out a tin flask before gulping down the rest of the contents. He staggered the rest of the way down the hallway before Angela caught up with him to make sure he got home safely. She grabbed his arm and he pulled it away from her. Then together, they silently left the Ritz.

Richard was very concerned for Cecelia. Although he was slightly irritated with her, she had obviously brought up Tommy to get a rise from Jimmy, putting him in an unpleasant position. But despite his slight unhappiness, his concern won him over. Jimmy's anger had caused little damage to her face, but the contact with the wall - had. He helped Gillian carefully walk her to the car where they promptly drove her to emergency care.

* * *

><p>The next day Nucky visited Cecelia personally in the hospital. Although by the time he arrived she was being released. And Nucky couldn't have been happier to find out that he didn't need to cancel her Friday show. And since Richard had left her alone that morning, she accepted Nucky's ride back to the Ritz.<p>

"Stitches huh?" Nucky asked.

"Ten." She said. "I must have a weak head."

"Well from now on I would avoid pissing off your brother. James is a disturbed man, he'll go off if you push him enough."

"As I so quickly found out." Cecelia said with a smile.

"Listen, James isn't my favorite associate. We don't always see eye to eye and he tends to have his own idea about how things are run. The war messed him up, he wasn't the same kid that left and ran away from Princeton."

"Princeton?" she asked. Nucky nodded. Cecelia silently scoffed at how much of a pig she now thought Jimmy to be, he was a scholar, a business man, a powerful man. And he sat here calling her pathetic? He had it easy, his hand in Nucky's pockets, an education, a family, a mother. What did she grow up with?

_One dress, one pair of shoes, and a meal twice a day. _

She had made something of herself by giving men a fantasy – she kept her dignity and always fought for herself. No one had ever bought her; she had never like anyone enough to get close to her.

_Until Richard._

She had had many suitors when she became of age. Rothstein did her a kindness by keeping an eye on her, and Lucky Luciano had been one of the many. Some were cute, some were rich, and others had power. But so had her father.

Cecelia had not only inherited her mother's good looks, but her fathers dark hair, and sharp features. It was no wonder that Gillian had made the mistake of letting him coax her into bed. Her father was a handsome man, every woman thought so. Cecelia knew this was why she had immediately trusted Richard from the start. His scarred face didn't let him hide behind flawless features or wide eyes. Richard was displayed solely by his movement, and speech. She liked that about him, because she knew who he was. He couldn't sway her with the battery of eyelashes and cheeky smiles, he had to act how he felt, he had to say it. Looks were the very reason she had kept away from Lucky Luciano, Jimmy, and all her suitors. She couldn't trust a pretty face.

_Not even her own._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Finally got a lengthy chapter up. Sorry for the wait, I've had family in the hospital, and that had kept me away. Enjoy, tell me what you think!**


	14. Alone With His Thoughts

Richard had left Cecelia that morning only to take Gillian to Jimmy's home. After a few hours of Gillian cooing over Cecelia, both Richard, and Cecelia had endured enough of Gillian and her. It was quite obvious that Cecelia resented her mother in more ways than one. Richard was quite curious as to why Cecelia treated her so coldly when Gillian treated her so warmly. Richard knew that Cecelia was capable of the same warmth because he had been on the receiving end if it… _often._

And as expected when they pulled up, a very angry James Darmody greeted them.

"Ya' have a nice night?" he asked. His lips were playing with a cigarette, his hand held a glass of scotch.

"Jimmy. Not now." Gillian said promptly while fixing her dress after the car ride.

"No, now mother. You're not to talk to her… I've told you that before."

"Jimmy that is entirely unfair. She is my flesh and blood, just as yours – you should do to show some respect." Gillian said, she noticed the flare of anger in Jimmy's eyes whenever she ordered him around. This time was no different. Jimmy had moved himself to tower over her, showing that he was bigger than her, that he was mad, and that she would not win this fight.

"She's not a part of my family, or yours – or you would've brought her home a long time ago. Don't try to fill the missing child in your life with her because I pushed you away."

"Jimmy we can discuss this later, I am still very angry at your actions and I wish to go inside and rest."

Jimmy grabbed Gillian's arm, pinching, almost crushing. "You are never to see her again, do you hear me? I've told Angela – and don't you dare ever bring my son near her."

"Jimmy let go! You're hurting me!" Gillian cried. Richard could barely recognize his friend that he had first met. His constant drinking, and his out-of-hand actions were becoming worse. Richard wedged himself between Mother and Son, but then it became his turn.

"And you." He pointed, knowing Richard was the most important of them all. "I've seen just exactly how she's manipulated and trained you. All she is, is a pretty face, but Richard she's nothing more than a damn whore!"

"Jimmy that's not true!" Gillian yelled from behind him.

"Shut it mother." Jimmy said giving her a half glance.

"Your mother. Is right." Richard said. "This fighting. Mm. doesn't help."

"Richard I'm going to tell you again, _Stay away from her._Granted this is only a warning. You're your own man, and can do what you wish with you time – but that girl is going to seem beautiful to you up until the day she leaves and finds something better."

Richard was silent.

"I consider you my friend Richard, I don't like to see my friends hurt."

Richard was trying to no say things he knew would only worsen the situation. Jimmy clapped his hand against his shoulder, like he often did. Richard was grateful for his friendship with Jimmy. He had been the first normal human contact he'd had since he'd come home from the war. Even his relationship wish his sister wasn't normal, and for a while Richard feared that it was going to stay that way with everyone he met. But then Jimmy came along and introduced him to a purpose, to something new. Because of Jimmy, Richard was able make love to a woman, live in a beautiful city, work for powerful men, and make plenty of money.

Richard watched as Jimmy pushed Gillian back into the house. Richard could see Angela standing back in the hall, her silhouette washed out by the sunlight from the window behind her. Jimmy returned, with more to say: "I've got work for us to do… in New York. I wanna leave tomorrow."

Richard was unable to tell him no. Jimmy had given him so much, and when Jimmy needed him, he could not refuse him.

"Mm. Yes. I'll… be here. In the morning." Richard finally answered after a long pregnant silence.

Jimmy's hand clapped against his shoulder again, he felt that familiar sting of friendship. "Try to… spend some time away from her." Jimmy said before finishing his glass of whiskey.

* * *

><p>Richard first took the hauling truck from Jimmy's house and <em>wanted<em> to return to the Ritz. He had been informed that Cecelia had been taken back already – and he wanted to see if she was okay. But Richard respected Jimmy in such a way that… he wanted to at least _try_and see if it was even possible for him to stay away from her. But so far he hadn't thought of anything but her.

He headed home to try and see that perhaps a change of location could help. After a long night he wanted something to eat and a fresh change of clothes.

He locked his apartment door once he was inside, a habit he had of doing. He went straight to his small kitchen, trying to avoid looking at his bed. He pulled another meal that Angela had sent him home with, and ate it in silence. He ran his hands back and forth through his greasy hair trying to think of anything but the weekend that Cecelia had stayed there. He couldn't even remember her putting her clothes back on until they finally decided to return back to the Ritz. His bed sheets were still draped over one another, reminding him of her even more.

He striped down after turning on the faucet for a bath. After checking the temperature, he stepped in and sat in the warm water. He didn't fit in the common household ceramic tub. But he leaned back as best he could while he tried to think of something other than Cecelia. He could remember a time when his thoughts were flooded of suicide, and the war. He could now tell that a casual warmness was reinstating it's way back into his broken _soul,_as he put it. He didn't feel cold and wasteful anymore.

After dressing in a blue shirt and brown suit, Richard found himself sitting at his desk, not looking into his personal scrapbook, or the evenings paper, but instead pulling out stationary. He didn't write anything on the scrap of paper, instead he pulled out fifty dollars of a concealed wooded box, and folded it inside. He addressed it to his sister in Plover, Wisconsin, before finally sealing the envelope and finishing it for sending. He pulled in his coat, and placed the letter inside his jacket pocket before putting on his page-boy cap, and leaving.

* * *

><p>Cecelia was pinning her hair to hide her new stitches when she heard a soft knock at the door. She kept it chained while opening it a few inches to see Richards face. She quickly shut it again to unlock it before letting him in. He hesitated before stepping inside. She could tell that dealing with Jimmy must've been hard on him.<p>

"How is. Your head?" Richard asked her.

"Throbbing." She said. "How was… Jimmy?" she asked him hesitantly.

"Very angered." He said, "he doesn't want me around you – and. Mm. asked if I would go with him to. New York this week."

"When will you be back?" she asked.

"Not till the weekend, Mm. I'm sorry I won't. Be able to be here."

"It's alright, I mean… I guess you're here tonight, and as long as you promise to be careful, I think I could manage on my own."

"I didn't tell Jimmy I was coming tonight. Mm. Mhm. He thinks I've gone home."

"Oh so… this is a _secret_meeting?" She asked with a smile on her face. "I could keep that secret… if you're so inclined to do me a favor?" her hair was fully pinned on one side of her head, the other side, fell to dismay. Richard liked the disorder to her hair, it was sweet, and she was beautiful.

"Mm. What would that be?" he asked, expecting and errand, or a common favor.

"I spent all night alone in that hospital bed." She paused, looking up at him now, he watched as he came closer to him and began to fiddle with his tie. "And… We have half the day before my show."

"We do." he innocently assured her.

"I had… so many thoughts about you last night…" she said, he watched as her eyes lowered into an animalistic glare. His stomach flipped as she licked her lips and softly rolled her bottom lip out from underneath her teeth.

'…thoughts?" he asked.

"You know… those kinds of thoughts that always peak into your mind… and never seem to go away?"

"I didn't know… I was the. sort of. _man. _you thought about."

Richards hands seemed to be fumbling with her shirt, something he'd never really done on his own before. But he liked the way that she looked at him while he did it. She helped him slide the shirt off her shoulders while he pressed his lips to hers. Encouraged by several soft moans from Cecelia, his hand suddenly released her and sought to find the small of her back, pressing her firmly to his body, yet at the same time he forced her back up against the vanity she had so diligently been working before. Cecelia feverishly gasped while Richard began to kiss her neck.

His mask was becoming tangled in her loose pieces of hair, he thought he had hurt her – so he stopped. She pulled her hair free from the wire of his mask before she unhooked it from his other ear. She slowly lowered it, holding it delicately in her hands while Richard returned to kissing her neck. She felt his hands slide up her skirt. She was surprised how comfortable he seemed with her now, he wasn't as shy as he hand been before. She moaned loudly when he'd reached that sweet area between her legs and arched her back pressing her even more against him. Richard had just begun to make her toes curl when there came a knock at the door.

Both stopped in the heat of the moment, both slightly afraid that someone unkind was on the other side of that door. But soon Cecelia heard the mousy voice of the band director.

She gripped Richard's neck and rolled her eyes, very irritated with his timing. She tried to ignore him and started kissing Richard on his neck.

"Ms. Darmody it is urgent! I can… I can hear you in there!" he said nervously.

Cecelia jumped down from the vanity, brushing her skirt back down past her knees and throwing her shirt back over her shoulders. She held the front of her blouse shut while she opened the door. The director kindly informed her that one of her key instrumentalists was gravely ill, and that the set would need to be changed as so that they could perform without him, this was something that would take the rest of her day.

She shut the door irritated.

Richard was in front of her, also irritated. She could tell by the size of his pants that he had anticipated more from their act, as had she.

She thought for a moment about canceling the whole show. But Friday's were the busiest, and Nucky would be very upset if she canceled so late.

She buttoned two buttons to her shirt before she casually stroked Richard's bulge and promising him that he would not be left unsatisfied, if he stayed the night. She knew he already would – but she apologized over and over again while she got re-dressed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapters is slightly shorter than I wanted it to be, I wrote several more pieces, but I thought they fit better together in the next chap instead. So that just means I'll probably post sooner than usual, thanks. Happy reading!**


	15. Bloody Alleys in New York

Cecelia's evening was full of character mistakes, and poorly rehearsed musicians. She wanted to beat them all with their own instrument – but alas she ran out of time when the show was about to start. Richard had been kind enough to wait around after he had caught up on some much needed sleep. And the last few minutes she had left before she needed to walk on stage were spent tangled in Richard's hair while they both tried to work out some of their frustration from earlier. Neither of them were too happy when it was all cut short once again by her leave.

Richard was luckier than Cecelia however. Because for the next little while he could watch her dance on stage, and listen to her sing, talk, and make jokes. He seemed to enjoy nothing more than to watch her glow with personality on stage. Sometimes he'd smile while he stood back in the shadows. He was always watching the crowd looking for faces that might give trouble later. He was always amazed at how different the crowd was with Cecelia's show and someone like Eddie Canter's. It seemed her crowd lacked women, mostly men sat at tables ordering drinks or stood near the stage to get a better look.

She had quite the personality, making men nearly melt at her feet.

Richard could tell that these men would probably give anything to be allowed into her room. It felt odd to him that he had been given the privilege to touch her… _to kiss her… _Perhaps if he looked like he did before the war, it would make sense to him. He had always been told by others how handsome he was and what a great husband he'd make some day. But the moment he returned from the war, he never felt that admiration from before. He had gotten so tired of pity, which was why he'd left Emma. Even though she loved him – she saw the new him, not the old him. And all Richard wanted was to feel that again.

He was worried leaving her alone for the week, the hungry eyes in the crowd was more than enough reason to worry about her. He hoped that Nucky would leave adequate assistance while he was gone.

He was deeply lost in thought when Cecelia found him. She was sparkling, her skin was warm to the touch, she entwined her fingers in his while they slipped through the door away from a few men who had made it past the stairs to the backstage.

Richard instinctively turned right, but Cecelia pulled him left, down the hall where she often nicked a bottle of scotch now and then. But instead of going to the storage, he found himself hiding with her in the small storage closet they had been in before.

With the door cracked Cecelia peaked through while she watched several intoxicated men roam the halls. Some calling her stage name – _"Cici!"_

Richard wondered how she knew to hide here, but he was distracted by her perfume that was now wafting through his nostrils. With the closet's amount of space, and Cecelia leaning foreword, her back end was conveniently pressed against his crotch.

He remembered that earlier they had been interrupted, and his arousal had been hard to stifle. But before he even had to act, she was on her knees undoing his trousers with fast fingers.

His heartbeat quickened, knowing very well what she was doing. Odette had serviced him in the same way before he had nervously made love to her so long ago. But somehow this was better. Maybe it was because he wasn't as nervous with Cecelia, maybe it was because they had already been intimate. But this time he was able to rest his back against the shelf, and enjoy what she was giving him.

She was moaning, even as she uncomfortably knelt between his legs, and she liked that Richard's hands found their way to her hair, now she could tell he was really enjoying it. He could feel every inch of him begin to start to shake, the spine tingling feeling was working its way through his blood, leaving him to forget all that bothered him, and for a moment feel invincible. He lifted her head to kiss her; he wasn't able to handle what she was doing to him. She let her fingers scratch his neck and scalp. He liked the way she felt against him. They way she clung to him, was like pure need.

She thrust the door open while still clinging to him and kissing him, she needed her bed. She could only hope that this fever coursing through her veins was something Richard could cure, she felt this instinctive fire in her heart and could only claw and cling to his body while they both stumbled down the hall. She heard whispers coming from several men at the end of the hall, she only responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, letting him carry her through the threshold to her room shutting the door behind them – leaving the entire world behind them.

* * *

><p>After the blissful chaos, both were lying atop her sheets, sweating over triumph and ecstasy. Cecelia was tracing the small scars across his chest with her fingertip. More fascinated instead of disgusted, and Richard liked the way it felt.<p>

"I'm… sorry for putting you in a terrible position with Jimmy." She said. "I'm quite to blame and I don't want to make things harder for you by having to chose him or me."

Richard sat up, confused slightly by her words. She was aware of what she had done, and even Richard didn't want to fully accept the problem.

"I understand he doesn't like me. But Jimmy's very important to you. I know that Richard."

"You. Mm. You're important as well." Richard said.

"I know – but I… don't want you torn. You're already fragile, so… when you go to New York tomorrow, just know that _I want you to go._I want you to be there for Jimmy. I won't resent you for it."

* * *

><p>Richard was standing outside on a busy New York street. He was waiting for Jimmy. It seemed he was always waiting for Jimmy. He hadn't even told Richard why the trip was so sudden, why it was so important. And all he could think about was Cecelia, and if she was all right.<p>

Richard began to wonder by Thursday if anything Jimmy did here actually had an importance to his business. He had been trying all week not to suspect Jimmy of undermining him, but even Richard couldn't hide from his own thoughts. And now he worried for Cecelia even more, when she first came to Atlantic City security had been a problem, he looked at the clock tower off in the distance, and he knew her performance would begin soon. It had been hard for him not to sneak away from Jimmy and call her the other night to check on her, but Jimmy had kept him at a bar, pouring drinks into him one by one until Richard awoke the next morning with a slamming head ache.

Now he was here again, another night, still away from Cecelia. Jimmy was again to get him to accept the glasses of bourbon equipped with a straw, and trying to stay sober enough to perhaps call the Ritz after Jimmy fell asleep. Then came something, something Richard didn't expect. Jimmy left, the bartender had informed him of a call coming from the lobby, and Jimmy left him to take it. Richard followed him out, and watched him go inside the private booth to take the awaiting call. Richard wondered if they had been waiting around for this call, or if it was just Angela checking in. The serious look on his face was something Richard wasn't used to seeing, and for a moment Jimmy looked directly at him, before continuing the conversation with the mysterious caller.

Jimmy hung up the phone and exited the booth.

"Do we. Mm. have work to do?"

"Yes Richard, a little job tonight, and we'll return to Atlantic City tomorrow."

Richard nodded, rather than speaking. He felt his words would've been wasted, because he was honestly just mad. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to waste so much time, when he could be spending it with her.

* * *

><p>Richard and Jimmy both left the speakeasy, finding that the cold New York air was rather refreshing. Richard placed his hands in his coat pockets; he could feel the cold steel of his gun. Something Jimmy had instructed him to bring.<p>

"Who. Mm. Are we to kill?" Richard asked.

"A shark. He's been stealing from Arnold Rothstein."

"Why. Mm. Are we helping. Him?"

"He's seen it kind enough to do me a favor, and for that I'm returning the favor tonight."

"Is. There a. Plan?" Richard asked.

"I'll talk to him, get him alone, then you don't waste time and take the shot."

"Alley way seems dark enough. Mn."

"Meet you there." Jimmy said.

The two men split up. Jimmy went inside a small café, while Richard took to the shadows. The walk his diffused some of the tension he felt towards Jimmy. For a while he'd felt like Jimmy had brought him here to force him away from Cecelia. After all Jimmy still did not think highly over her, especially after how bad she made him look the last time they spoke. Surely Jimmy was embarrassed, and was trying to get away from what happened.

Richard took his pistol off safety.

He hoped that the sooner this job was done, the sooner he could return home, to her. He watched light stream into the alleyway while Jimmy stepped out of the exit, along with a short bearded man.

"Arnold Rothstein sends his deepest sympathy." Jimmy told him. Richard watched as the man only became confused at the comment, but Richard took no extra time to splatter his brains across the parallel wall. Both Jimmy and Richard disappeared into the shadows away from where any citizens would see them.

* * *

><p><em>Late Friday Night:<em>

Richard was accompanying Jimmy to see Nucky Thompson. It was late, it was a short trip, and shouldn't have taken all day for them to get back to Atlantic City. He could see the groups of men inside and outside the hotel were due to the non other than Cecelia.

Jimmy and Richard were able to catch Nucky as he was leaving. His nostrils flared when he looked at Jimmy. They currently weren't on the best of terms, but obviously they shared business acquaintances, or quarrels so it just depended on whether they discussed good news or bad news. This time it was bad news, Richard watched from a distance as Nucky said something condescending, and Jimmy left leaving a cloud of cigarette smoke around his face, not really caring how Nucky felt.

Jimmy walked over to Richard who was cleaning against a largely decorated wall of the Ritz hotel. There were several men who were leaving now, many drunk, some just late to see their wives. Cecelia's show must've ended, and Richard wasn't surprised how many men were still waiting around trying to meet her or offer to keep her company.

He turned to Jimmy who was trying to pull the last bit of tobacco from his short cigarette before he placed the but of it in an ashtray waiting until the embers disappeared.

Then Richard saw her, she was at the end of the hall, somehow they had driven her through the crowds and out the entrance to Babette's. She was surrounded but a crowd of drunk men, all had a cigar in their hand, most laughing, but all had their eyes on her.

"I thought you'd forgotten about her." He said pulling on Richard's arm. He had begun to step forward, ready to rescue her.

Richard shook his head.

"Stay, she gets herself into this mess, let her get herself out. She'd can't rely on you for everything."

Richard watched as the men grabbed at her, playfully, but possessively. Parts of her body… he liked to think that only he could touch her there. But they seemed to think that it was prime real estate, something they wanted to try on for size. But he could see the uncomfortable look in her eyes while she laughed off their playful movements. She would step away from one man only to fall into the arms of another, who seemed to end up doing the same thing all over again.

She was trying to be nice, trying not to cause a scene with the men that made her and Nucky money. But it was obvious she wanted to leave, that she didn't like the way he touched her. It seemed instead of shaking her hand or formally greeting her she'd receive a slap on her ass instead.

Richard saw that Jimmy's attention was elsewhere again. He remembered how Jimmy had drug him to New York, when he could've been here, Richard could've prevented this. He started to wonder how she had made it back to her room all those other nights, her eyes looked tired, perhaps she stayed stuck in the crowd until dawn. Richard was already walking into the crowd before he realized he'd left Jimmy's side. His path seemed to almost open up for him when men turned around to see who was trying to make their way past them. He got some scared looks from younger men, and disgusted looks from older men. But he ignored them, before he would've tried to slink away in the shadows. But instead he could proudly hold his head and mask high.

He was only a few feet from Cecelia before one man had enough guts to stop him.

"Whoa freak, she won't want to see you."

Richard looked at him; with his only eye he still managed to give an intimidating stare. He first fixed a flap of the man's jacket before forcefully shoving him aside and making his way past. Cecelia caught his eye, Richard watched as she almost lit up like a candle in dark room. She reached out at him, Richard took her hand as he felt another on his shoulder, he feared that he would have to face Jimmy now, in front of Cecelia, and several drunken idiots. But he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was only the same man before, drunk with courage, thinking he had to save the damsel, from the beast. Richard only turned to face him, and Cecelia was displayed latched to his arm, fingers entwined with hers. She smiled at him and asked: _"do we have a problem?"_

The man took one look at her, and then back at Richard before he stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Richard placed his hand at the small of her back before leading her upstairs safely away from the man still vying for her attention. Apparently Richards presence had became known to them, because they decided not to follow her upstairs, they seemed to know that once she was with him, no one else had a chance. Perhaps word had gotten out about her, and how she had jumped some injured war hero in the hallway last week.

"When did you get back?" she asked. She was beaming, she was surprised he'd returned early.

"Only. Mn. An hour ago." Richard answered.

He led her around another hallways, detouring, and then back up a set of stairs.

"I see you're safe, everything… go well?" she asked.

"Yes. Jimmy, may be mad I left him downstairs."

"Oh you did… did you? Perhaps I could make it worth your while to make him wait… even longer?" she asked, she had grown a sly smile.

Richard shook his head, "Better to not. Mm. Anger him anymore than he is."

Richard was now standing outside her door, taking the key from around her neck, and unlocking the door.

"Oh, alright. I just… was hoping I could see you naked perhaps, or the other way around."

Richard dropped the key, he had been pulling on it, trying to get it to come back out the lock, and after her comment it had slipped from his fingers. He hurried to his knees to pick it up before handing it back to her.

"I- Mn. Didn't-" Richard was stumbling over his words more than usual. She always had a way of giving him this sort of feeling as if he was young again, or as if he was handsome. She was playing with his hand, in his palm was the key, but she was more interested in tracing his palm and wrist with her fingertips. He had missed her, and he wanted to walk into her room pulling off clothing as he went, but Jimmy… he was downstairs, he couldn't make him wait like that.

"I have to. Mn." He was trying to move the thoughts of her naked from his head. "-see Jimmy. I can't. Mn. Not tonight."

"Okay." Cecelia sighed. "I guess I understand." She was pouting her lip, trying to get at him. "I suppose I can sleep naked and let my own fingers wander, like last night when I thought of you." Cecelia said.

Richard drew in a sharp breath, now any control he had over his thoughts were gone, and they were becoming flooded with thoughts of her, naked, thinking if him.

When he decided to kiss her, she seemed to only pull him closer, he didn't even think it was possible, but the way she attached herself to him made their bodies melt against one another. She was messing up his combed hair, and the wiring to his mask seemed to get caught in the attack, but now that he had let her drag him inside he set it safely on her vanity while she pulled on his tie.


	16. The Feeling Was Mutual

Cecelia realized that was probably the quickest she'd ever gotten her costume off before. She had torn part of the top, and would need to take it to a seamstress. She felt a pounding in her head. She was used to a few glasses of scotch before a stressful performance, but it had never hit her so hard before. She threw what was left of her costume to the ground and turned towards Richard who seemed slightly discontent.

He knew that Jimmy would have no problem getting home, as Richard and he were supposed to part ways at the Ritz anyway, and he knew that Jimmy was going to be angry with him. He wanted to curse Cecelia for being so damned irresistible, but Richard knew that it wasn't just the sex he craved, but her company.

He seemed to calm down the moment her hand began to stroke his chest and shoulders. It was relaxing when she did this, and Richard took a comfort to it.

"I'm glad you're safe." She said giving him a soft kiss on his scarred jaw.

Richard caressed her hand, holding it against his chest.

"Are you. Mn. alright?" he asked her.

"I'm fine, except for the couple day I couldn't escape Gillian, I don't think I'll ever get that time back."

"I thought. Spending time with your mother. Mm. Should be something appreciated?"

"Not exactly." Cecelia said. "Gillian's not always the best for advice. Or company. Or motherly love." Cecelia said.

"Then perhaps, mm. You and Jimmy have something in common."

Cecelia clutched her head, hoping for some salvation. But it bothered her enough that she had to find something else to do. She put her hand back against Richard's chest.

"…Tell me about Paris." She whispered. "Is it beautiful?"

Richard took a moment to think about the question. Paris had a lot of memories for him. Good and bad.

"The painters there. Mm. They sit outside all day long working on the smallest details. They Mm. Must have drank more than. Mm. Ten cups of coffee a day." Richard always thought that the good things were harder to remember, but for some reason all he wanted her to hear were the good things.  
>"The had. Mm. The best cigarettes. And it seemed to come alive. Mm. At night."<p>

"I've always wanted to see somewhere new. Some place beautiful."

"What about Atlantic City?" Richard asked her.

"I like it more than New York… but there's just something about France, or England that just makes me was to see it."

"What I saw. Was beautiful."

Cecelia's hopeful eyes reminded Richard of himself before the war. He had been a man excited to serve his country, eager to see the world. And he had enjoyed it… until he was on the front lines. Somehow the countryside just wasn't the same bathed in the blood of young men.

Cecelia could no longer stand the pounding in her head. She new vomiting would make her feel better, and as much as she didn't want to get sick right now she couldn't help it.

She picked up the nearest shirt she could find before wound up sick on the floor of her bathroom. She could see Richards shadow at the base of the door, obviously wondering if she was okay. She wiped her mouth with a towel and took her favorite bottle of whiskey from the drawer to rise out her mouth. She took another drink to calm her nerves. She realized that she had grabbed Richard's dress shirt. It swallowed her small frame, she had to roll up the sleeves to keep them clean.

But that's when she noticed the blood.

Cecelia looked at the spatter, it was mostly contained to the sleeve, but there were small flecks of red all across the shirt. He had either gotten hurt, or taken care of some business in New York. She rolled up the sleeve to hide it before walking out to meet the Richard, who was awkwardly standing, waiting for her.

"Mm. Are you alright?" he asked her.

"I'm fine, I just drank too much, then worked too hard." She looked at the rumpled sheets on the bed, "Twice."

Richard Tucked her hair back behind her ear, he sort of _liked_worrying about her.

"Would you stay with me Richard?" she asked quietly, she didn't want to seem so needy, but she had missed him. His warm hands hadn't held her for a week, she hadn't been able to kiss his scars or make him groan when she kissed his neck, she wanted him close. "In case I get sick again, you can be here… _to take care of me?_" she asked.

Richard thought of Jimmy. He was probably long gone by now, and already mad. So if he stayed the night, where was the harm in that? It was already very late, and quite dangerous to be walking about at night.

"I would. Mm. Like that." Richard told her. "I don't want you to be alone. Those men. They're. Always all over you."

"It seems my beauty comes as more a curse than a blessing." She said.

"H-how. Mn. Can you say that?" Richard asked, "being," he tapped his scared cheek, "like me is more of a curse."

Cecelia let her hands cup his face, one hand was against his rough stubble, the other across smooth scar tissue. Her eyes roamed over his face, looking for something that resembled a curse. One of her hands trailed down his neck with a fingertip lightly scratching his skin, until she got to the scar on his throat.

"I see a man who can't lie to me. I can see in your one eye that you would only ever hurt the bad people – I can see that you went into the war a soldier, but came out as a protector. You are blessed Richard, with a good, and kind soul. I've always seen that. And it is beautiful."

Beautiful. There was that word again, humming from her lips.

"I wish I hadn't been so eager… Mm. To do this to myself." Richard

"But it's made you real. So much better than anyone I've ever met Richard."

Now, here he was, standing in front of the most vied for girl in Atlantic and New York City. She was telling him he was profound, and beautiful. He hadn't wanted to believe that something so real could be happening to him – it was all he'd ever wanted. And she was giving it to him.

And then there was Cecelia, a girl who had sworn to never let another man touch her. She had never meant to give her heart to anyone. But she could to Richard, because he would do nothing but cherish it.

She tickled his neck with her lips, she was sure that he could smell the whiskey on her breath. But she didn't care, she only cared to hear that low grumble that would come from this mouth when she kissed the sweetest spot on his neck.

* * *

><p>Arnold Rothstein had been running New York for simply, fun. And now that his most profitable asset had run away, business was declining, and he wasn't making as much money as he would like. The word of her whereabouts reached him quickly as her performance had exploded in Atlantic City. At first, he was wildly angered by her betrayal, as he put it.<p>

But then his realization came to him that; perhaps her leave of absence would only cause more of a ruckus. Maybe once she returned to New York she would bring more tourists, more men, and newcomers. He knew that is was only a matter of time before she came running back to him. To him, she was property, something he had taken a bet on, and won. But like any other living creature – she had free will. She wasn't physical money that could be spent; she had to be won over to do things.

When Charlie returned from Atlantic City he was slightly unhappy that his attempt at scaring her back here was unsuccessful. Now, he would have to act by force, and the only problem with that was that Nucky Thompson had given her quite the security package. But now that James Darmody had contacted him, with the most unusual request – things might just go smoothly.

A.R. wasn't afraid to admit that he had done his research on Cecelia and where she came from. And he wasn't surprised when the James Darmody wanted her out of the picture. She was quite the handful, and didn't share the spotlight well, in fact, she didn't share anything well. Arnold had gotten to the point, after spending nights at her shows with a reserved table, where he felt as though he deserved her time and attention. And the one night he went to cash in his dept, she ran.

But soon, soon he would have her back.

* * *

><p>Chapter was going to be longer, but I'm taking too long to finish it. So I decided to post the two complete parts.<p> 


	17. A Short Trip Home

Another week later Cecelia was still in Richards arms. Both as cozy as could be. She had only one more performance that night, before they could be free to explore the city together. But for some reason she was restless. It was Friday morning and she couldn't stay in bed all day.

She silently slipped into the bathroom and dressed into a red dress. She tied a matching scarf around her head and put on her favorite pair off sunglasses. Her bathroom stash of whisky was left untouched as she ran out of the room and crawled on top of Richard. He woke up and looked at her with a smile.

"I've got something fun for us to do." She smiled, Richard only replied with a groan. "I know you're tired. But I'll can wait until you get up." Richard groaned again. And she left a kiss on his shoulder before she bolted out the door.

* * *

><p>Richard rolled over. He could smell Cecelia's perfume, but her side of the bed was cold. Then he remembered, she had mentioned the something… she would wait for him. He dressed himself, and placed his mask over his scars before he left her room.<p>

He found her in the lobby café, sipping a cup of black coffee and eating bits of a croissant. The weather was nice, finally warm after a long spell of wet weather. He found that Cecelia was easy to spot as red seemed to stand out against her pale skin. He noticed the eyes of many men looking at her, including himself.

He joined her when she waved him over with a happy smile. It was one he saw often with her, but it seemed that it was directed at him almost each time. Several looks of jealousy were shot at him almost the moment he sat by her side.

"Can I get you something?" she asked.

Richard shook his head no.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, I don't want you to feel famished." She said.

"Mm. No thank you." Richard politely said, "I'm quite alright."

"How do you feel about having fun today? Before my show?"

"What Mm. did you have in mind?"

"Well last week while you were gone, I went to a picture show. After finding my way there, without getting lost I got to see part of the most wonderful film!"

"Oh. And you Mm. wish to see it again?"

"No I wish to finish it." Cecelia said. "The audience got to watch all but the last half before the film burst into flames! The refunded the entire audience and gave us tickets for a complimentary show. Will you accompany me Mr. Harrow?" she asked.

"I suppose I can. If that is Mm. what you would like to do today."

"I would very much like that Richard." She said as she squeezed his hand. She finished her coffee promptly and took his hand. Together they walked to the theater, hand-in-hand.

The silent movie was enjoyable enough for the both of them. Richard had never seen one completely. Sometimes there were pictures playing in this park in Paris. From his station he could watch scenes, but without a proper view the silent movie was soon forgotten. Even though she was transfixed by the black and white screen, Richard found it hard to steal away from her beauty. The most beautiful girl in Atlantic City was wrapped around his arm, and as she laughed she would place her hand on his chest. He would look down realize she was glad to be with him.

Once the film was over, they left together to head back for a night of work. But quickly interrupted by a man with two children.

Cecelia scooped up the small girl and begun to spin her around. And somehow they all knew her name. He watched from a distance as they all seemed excited to see her, but he felt nervous, children never reacted well to him. She had a small child on her arm, and with the other she took his hand. The children stared, one snickered.

"Cici what's wrong with him?" the little boy asked.

"Nothing my sweet!" She told him, "He is my protector. He always keeps me safe."

"From the bad men?" he asked.

"Yes. All the bad men." Cecelia told him.

The little boy smiled, "Then we play!" he screamed pulling at Cecelia's arm.

Cecelia managed to soften any worries the children had about Richard's looks, in exchange for some more attention from her. But she had to stifle the little boys pleas for games, as it seemed her old friend was in quite the hurry.

"Forgive them, they're only children." The man said.

"Oh it's quite alright Henry. These two have always been my favorite anyway."

"Well say goodbye, they're about to become someone else's favorites."

"They found a family? For both of them?"

"Yes, a lovely little couple here in Atlantic City, stable enough to adopt both children."

"I'm so happy for you both, are you excited?"

"Absolutely!" The little boy said.

Richard kept her side, acting as though a bodyguard would. And the look he saw in this man's eyes was fear – what he saw in everyone's eyes that looked at him. Cecelia passed off the little girl in her arms to the man.

"Henry, it's good to see you." Cecelia said.

"I know, It's been a long time since you left – you know for the big life. Who's the mask?" Henry asked.

Cecelia looked up at Richard, "He's with me, Henry," Cecelia grabbed his hand, "This is Richard."

"Mm. Hello." Richard said with a nod.

"Hello sir." Henry said shaking his hand, "good to see she's got a fighter by her side, god know she needs it."

Richard nodded again.

"We really should be going, we're meeting the prospective parents now."

"Oh alright." Cecelia said. "Can you both be good for me?" both children nodded their heads.

After handing the small girl back to Henry, Richard and Cecelia began to head back to the Ritz. But not before Cecelia handed Henry the money in her hand bag. It was a large sum, probably a large amount she had saved over the last few weeks.

But as they walked away Richard didn't feel like he could ask her why, he was relived when she interjected on her own.

"It's for the children." She said. "Henry and I grew up together, though we didn't get along when we were kids. But as we got older we both grew very protective over the little children. They need better food, better clothes."

"I Mm. Suppose I was lucky. To grow up with family."

"I suppose you were Richard." She was on his arm, she hadn't brought a coat, but it was cold now and she was keeping close to him for warmth. Tonight was the night of the biggest boxing fight in history. He was glad that Cecelia's show might lack in audience because of that.

When they got back to the Ritz it seemed that it was obvious that the crowd was lacking. And in the crowd he spotted Jimmy Darmody.

"I'll Mm. Talk to Jimmy. I'm sure he's got something to say to me."

"Oh Richard, don't- don't let him you know- I just don't want him to treat you badly for something I did."

"Don't Mm. worry Cecelia. I'll see you soon."

Cecelia nodded and left him behind, he watched as she walked away. Almost more enchanting than the time before. He made his way to Jimmy who was standing at the bar holding a drink for him, bourbon, equipped with a straw. He took it, but didn't drink it.

"I want you to come see the fight with me tonight." Jimmy said.

"Mm. What about my work?" Richard asked.

"Everyone's at the fight, come on. She'll be alright for one night,"

"Mm. I suppose I should talk to her first."

"Fine, talk to the girl, but be back here in five."

* * *

><p>Richard knocked on Cecelia's door. And as always she greeted him with her smile.<p>

"Richard, do this button!" she said while turning around. He was stunned by her outfit. Her skirt was almost entirely made out of beads, and the amount of skin she showed made him jealous of the men who got to watch her. He buttoned a clasp at her back and she turned around to see what he had to say.

"Mm. Jimmy wants me to accompany him to the fight."

"Ah, I see. Boys and their fights. Always so amusing." She smiled.

"I wanted to talk to you, I want to make sure you're safe."

"No Richard, go. Go with Jimmy. I'll be fine."

"I Mm. don't like they way they look at you." Richard admitted.

"Then… go with Jimmy, and… tonight come back and I'll give you your… own private show, yeah?" she said playing with his tie. She watched as Richard swallowed hard. She left a kiss on his lips. "Go. You'll be late for your fight." She said winking at him.

* * *

><p>Cecelia felt slightly off without Richard again. But she felt happy that she would see him soon. She took a little more comfort from a glass of whiskey, and then made her way to the lit stage.<p>

Halfway during her performance, she froze. The private table directly in front of the stage was fitted with none other that her old friend Arnold Rothstein. She stuttered for a moment on what to do, how to continue – but she figured that if he was here to talk to her she should spend her time taking a few punches. With a signal to the band she was able to switch to a new song. One which she had written on her own, about him.

She tip-toed across tables, she could feel men prying at her feet but she was able to make it to his before she stepped onto the ground so she could whisper into his ear. Then she finished her number on the way back to the stage.

_"Don't you see that in the end… there will be nothing! Left, of, me!"_

When her set was complete she found herself backstage shaking, on her knees. Completely afraid to go back to her room. She realized the crowd was particularly quiet, there wasn't the usual shuffle. Less men must've meant they left quicker, meaning it would give Rothstein an opportunity.

She didn't look back. She only made her way upstairs quick enough to maybe miss a few of Rothstein's men. She made it to her room luckily finding it empty. She knew she should hide, at least as long as Richard wasn't here; she had no way to protect herself without making a mess of things. She grabbed a suitcase and began to fill it with things. She threw on her dress from earlier, which was now wrinkled and messy. But her large coat would have the job of hiding it. She would go to Richard's apartment, and wait for him there.

She stepped outside and dropped her suitcase to her feet.

She was too late.

Arnold Rothstein was waiting for her, "Creative." He said, "The song, 'nothing left of you?' don't you think that's just a tad harsh Cecelia? I _made_you."

"Shouldn't you be at the fight? Or at least listening to it on the wire back in New York?" she asked.

"My dear the fight was over a while ago, and I won quite the sum of money." He assured her.

"Always making bets, you never lose well do you." Cecelia said.

"Oh you mean you Cecelia? No I suppose I was a little more than irritated when you skipped town. You could imagine how I must've felt when I found you here… working for Enoch Thompson."

"I suppose that was a little jab on my part." She said. "What do you plan on doing now? I won't go back there, I won't leave." She told him.

"You will. There's not much you can do from the back of a trunk my dear."

"I won't perform for you. I won't!" Cecelia yelled.

"Oh. I assure you, I have ways of making you do what I need you to do."

"No! You can't!" she yelled, "Please, someone help!" One of the men clamped his hand down over her mouth so that her screams were muffled, and with a little knock to the head she was out cold – easy enough to be dragged away, back to New York City.

She was thrown in the back of Rothstein's car along with her suitcase. While he collected the many debt's owed to him after the fight. He felt that he had won quite a lot that night, including his prized entertainer. Thanks to Jimmy Darmody she was easy to pluck from the Ritz Hotel without anyone noticing or giving them trouble. He had dealt his hand just right – no one would ever know they were played.

* * *

><p>AN: Finally a little action! I hope you don't think the story has dragged on these last few chapters, because I know I did. The song I was puling from was sung by Marion Cotillard in the film Nine. Please stay tuned and let me know what you think, thank you! (And I apologize for any errors, as it is very late for me.)


	18. Midnight Mornings in New York

After a couple weeks Richard had slightly given up on finding Cecelia. He had not wanted to believe what Jimmy told him. Richard informed Nucky of Cecelia's disappearance early the next morning where Nucky was concerned. But a few days later Nucky received a call from Arnold Rothstein who had explained that his property had returned to New York, and she would be there for the rest of the year, of not longer.

Nucky believed the lie that Cecelia had willingly returned to New York after Rothstein offered her a pay raise. But Richard though otherwise. She had always said how happy she was to be away from him, and that no one could ever buy her.

Richard had returned to the Ritz shortly after the fight. But when he found Cecelia's room empty, he immediately went looking for her near the stage.

But it was empty.

Even most of the tables had been cleaned up – her performance had ended hours ago. Richard returned to her room to find several things out of place that he hadn't noticed the first time around. Her shoes were missing, along with several things from her vanity, but her coat was still draped on the back of her chair.

Richard had thought she must still be in the hotel, but he would've seen her on her way in, unless she was with someone… in their room. But she had promised to see him tonight; she would not have made other plans, unless they were important. So Richard sat, and waited for her to return, in which case, she never did.

Jimmy found him later the next morning, eyeing him carefully. Jimmy told him to go home, that he shouldn't be waiting for some showgirl.

* * *

><p>Jimmy was concerned when he saw how lost Richard looked. Almost as if the tramp mattered to him or something. After a favor for Rothstein, he took her off Jimmy's hands and now he had no one to bother him.<p>

For a while he wondered if it was even worth it. Rothstein was angered, he didn't want her back because he knew she would be too tough to handle after she had the taste of life without Rothstein in her pocket or her pants.

But after seeing the way Richard was devoted to her that night after New York Jimmy knew he'd made the right decision. Rothstein could do whatever he wanted with her – and Jimmy's life could go back to normal.

Gillian on the other had was going to be more of a monster to convince. She seemed to cling to this idea that one of her children's lives could be fixed, and she didn't seem to think that was him.

When Gillian found out about Cecelia's departure Jimmy was surprised at how east she accepted it.

Gillian blamed herself, thinking Cecelia wanted to be as far from her mother as possible. Gillian spent the first two weeks drinking herself through the day, and the rest of the month in a short fused rage. She began to vent out her anger by practicing her roles even without the others. She kept focus on work, and alcohol.

Jimmy sent her flowers, reminding her that he was the good son, he was the one Gillian should be thankful for.

* * *

><p>Richard was often at Jimmy's house, looking for something to do. With his nights free and few shipments coming in, Richard mostly helped Jimmy with his own booze organization. Richard thought leaving Nucky was a big mistake, but he knew he'd follow Jimmy into anything. Richard owed him that.<p>

After all Jimmy had been careful about how Richard had felt after learning the girl he'd become interested in had left for New York with the promise of more money. Richard thought he'd gotten a grasp on who she was, but instead Jimmy reminded him how wrong he was.

Richard hadn't believe it until he heard other men talking about _'Cici D, back in NYC!'_she was performing, she was happy, she even had that Luciano guy as her body guard, and Richard was sure that she probably treated Lucky just as she had Richard.

"I told you, she was a whore, after nothing but money." Jimmy said. "I'm sorry Rich, it ain't right."

Richard sat quietly in Jimmy's front room. He could see Tommy in the next room playing with wooden cars and small army men. It only reminded him of the two small children Cecelia had know from her orphanage – that day he had seen her with children had completed the fantasy she was to him. Whether he would ever have had the courage to peruse a life with her was another story, but now he felt cheated, that he'd never had a chance.

Jimmy handed him a glass of scotch with Richard took without hesitation. The glass was empty in two swallows, and Jimmy refilled his glass again.

"Trust me, she ain't worth the worry." Jimmy said.

Richard still said nothing. He was embarrassed that Jimmy had told him this the whole time. What could he do? She'd never know that Richard had grown to feel something for her. He felt so complete with her in his arms, he didn't want to remind himself that all he could think of was her, every day, all day.

Some nights his dreams would leave him aroused, and then the rest of his day would be fed with anger. Anger for her – and how she had made him believe there was something more.

He let Jimmy refill his glass again.

With the help of the alcohol Richard admitted, "I let her… she made me believe she liked me. And. Mm. I let myself believe it."

Jimmy shut his eyes, his suspicion was true.

"Well at least she left when she did. I guess, well –" Jimmy paused and smiled. "we could always teach her a lesson." Jimmy said.

Richard shook his head no. Hurting her was something he never wanted to do, he didn't want to hurt her, he hated her yes, but that's because he had all these feelings hidden for so long and she had stirred them up – and then left.

Richard left Jimmy's home, leaving the car and deciding to walk.

He had burned the book of T.S. Elliot, he had washed all his clothes multiple times just to get rid of her scent. It clung to everything around him; even the smell of scotch reminded him of her and the small nips she would take before going on stage.

Walking home had become a bad idea, Posters with her face were still around town, littered on the ground, and then there she would be again, staring at him from the boardwalk with that sly smile he liked so much. He kicked on of them away and lifted his head. But now he could see the upset faces of those that saw him. He remembered that he'd gotten used to the way she say him, but now it was normal.

He decided that seeing their disgusted faces was better than looking down and seeing her beautiful one.

* * *

><p><em>A night after the Fight<em>

Cecelia arrived in New York after a few uncomfortable hours in Rothstein's car. She was left in a small room at the Elysée, her suitcase thrown at her feet, and door locked. She banged on the door, the walls, the window, yet no one came.

She was alone for a few more hours before Arnold Rothstein, and Lucky Luciano greeted her warmly.

"So nice to have you back," Rothstein said.

Cecelia spit in his face.

Rothstein took out his handkerchief and wiped his face clean. "Is that a way to treat a friend?" he asked.

"It is the way to treat a kidnapper." She said, "Let me go!"

"Not a chance." Rothstein said.

"That Darmody kid was dumb enough to do me a favor if I took you off his hands, luckily for me he just made sure you were easy to get to."

"Well he doesn't seem to like me much."

"Yeah, I got that sense from him, I wonder why you intimidate him so."

"Rothstein, please, I'm asking you nicely, let me go. I can't be here anymore, I cant be in New York." She said.

"Why… because of your father?" Rothstein asked.

Cecelia froze for a moment, looking at Arnold, then at Lucky.

"I'll ensure your father stays in prison if you do me a little favor." Rothstein said,

"No." Cecelia said, "You've asked for that before, you can't have me."

"Well we'll see if you warm up to the idea, until then, you'll go back to your normal schedule, performances, parties, things of that sort, all at my leisure."

"And if I don't?" she asked.

"Just see how quickly your father gets released, and I'll personally give him directions to this room, so _don't_test me."

Cecelia began to break down and cry.

"Rest up, you'll perform in two nights, and there's been a riot about you returning home, all your fans can't wait to see you." Arnold said, "Lucky, see to it that she doesn't leave, and that no one comes in."

"Of course sir." Lucky said, "Have a nice evening."

* * *

><p>It seemed that Lucky took his time in admiring her legs from her partly torn dress.<p>

"You know A.R. ain't the only guy who wants you uh, how do I uh, put this lightly? Naked and underneath him?"

"Don't Charlie. Don't do this again." She said.

He finished his cigarette while staring at her, not giving her any privacy to rest or to think of some sort of plan. She knew his eyes were making their way all over her and she couldn't stand it. She ran at the door, trying to claw her way past him, he stopped her, and held her back easily.

His fist hit her face hard, and his lips began to bite at her neck.

"Charlie!" she yelled, "No get off!" she yelled again. With all the strength she had she drug her nails across his face, digging in as hard as she could. He jumped back like an injured puppy.

'Fuckin' bitch!" he said covering his eye. He left the room quickly shutting the door behind him. She tried the knob, he had locked it. She shook the door, it was thick, it wouldn't budge, she was stuck – she sunk down to the floor put her head in her lap and cried.

* * *

><p><strong>an: Sorry this was so late, busiest work week for me ever. Wish it was longer for you. Thanks guys! Please tell me what you think. **


	19. Sickness within Grieving Hearts

Luciano hadn't tried to touch Cecelia again since she'd been here. He had left her a black eye, while she had been sure to leave her mark on his handsome face. Luciano had always had a thing for Cecelia, as apparently he did for all the Darmody girls. He seemed to almost take pleasure in dragging her through the hotel so she could practice her new routine. His fingers left faint bruises as he kept her close. His irritation with her since the other night had left him more than unhappy. He almost wanted to see her suffer now that she couldn't do anything about leaving - she was no where near leaving, nor being rescued.

From a distance, Luciano kept a watchful eye while he leaned against a large beam on her old stage smoking a cigarette while she was sitting, listening.

Cecelia sat in a wooden chair dressed in a heavy outfit that glittered like diamonds. She was practicing her new routine, one that Rothstein had quite a bit of input on. And input that implied that her sparkly outfit would be littered on the stage once it was over. Something she rarely did even before, but was now a part of her nightly act. She wasn't an entertainer anymore; this was whore-like behavior.

Her relationship with Rothstein was still somewhat hostile, and her relationship with Luciano, awkward. She didn't want to admit to herself how much she missed Richard, or she would start to cry.

Her first nights here she had cursed Jimmy Darmody for selling her out to New York's richest gangster. She hadn't done _that_much to her own brother, but apparently their blood did not run thicker than water. She eventually blamed Gillian for rising letting two siblings grow up poorly and separately. Cecelia had wanted to forgive her, but for some reason she knew she'd never be able to.

Now Cecelia was here, sick all the time.

The bad stopped, someone's instrument was out of tune, Cecelia just sat there, and if you saw her face, it was read pure pain.

"You ain't gonna win the hearts of hundreds with a face like that." Charlie told her.

"Well fuck you Charlie." She said.

"You gotta mouth, just like yer mother." Charlie said, "She was just as sweet as you."

"You're a sick pig." Cecelia spat back, she got up and made her way around him even though he tried to stop her. She had to untie the back of her dress, she was sick, and she couldn't breathe.

Luciano had watched her deteriorate since the moment she got here, she put on a smiling face for the show and as soon as if was over she was back to this. She was obviously upset about something, and what exactly, no one was really sure.

* * *

><p>Richard's had been staring at his poorly papered ceiling for over an hour now. He had been losing sleep it seemed. Falling asleep usually meant dreaming about Cecelia. Sometimes they would be nice, her next to him, usually naked stroking his chest with her finger nails, others she would get up and leave. But he always seemed to find that his heart ached more each time he thought about her, so he had grown accustomed to not sleeping.<p>

Richard stood up unable to shake the empty feeling that had been beside him in that bed. He drew a hot bath, and while he sat there, his one eye kept drawing towards his rifle. Too many times before Cecelia had he dreamt of putting it between his teeth. The same thought had crossed his mind again, but he quickly decided that it might be better used between someone else's. Jimmy had left him along for this past week, letting him cope and adjust – but now Richard needed something to do, someone to do in.

What Jimmy had said kept relaying in his mind, Jimmy had been eager to_teach her a lesson._Richard was still instinctively protecting her, despite her betrayal – perhaps he was never really going to stop loving her.

She had treated him so warmly, and for a short while, made him immensely happy. He wanted to try and not dwell on it being over, rather than it had happened to someone like him. Yet the feelings she'd left on his sleeve were a little harder to shake off.

He dressed in a lazily fashion. Usual brown suit, it fit him best, a blue shirt with yellow strips and a red tie. He was slightly unaware of what he was really doing. He was dressing to leave, not exactly sure what to expect once he did.

Jimmy was slightly surprised when Richard knocked on his door. Although his face looked tired behind his mask, Jimmy treated him no differently.

"Rich. Long time no see." Jimmy said.

"I figured you had some work. Mm. Something I could do?" Richard asked.

"I'm going to Philly today, you can drive me." Jimmy said.

"When do we leave? Richard asked.

"After breakfast." Jimmy said.

Richard spent the rest of the day in Jimmy's shadow, protecting him, following him, obeying him. By the end of the day they were still in Philly, drinking, it didn't look like they were going to make it home than night. With a drunken stumble they were barely able to make it to a hotel. Richard felt better with Jimmy, he felt somewhat whole this way. That plus the warming alcohol in his belly made him feel slightly better about missing Cecelia. But even then his mind still dreamt about her once he was finally asleep.

He woke up before Jimmy, with an incredible thundering in his head and a sickness in his belly. Not only had the alcohol had a negative effect on him, but so did his dreams – like every night he slept. Last night he had slipped away unaware of what was in store for him, he wished he'd been sober, then he could've stayed awake.

His dreams with drift from the war to Atlantic City, but he would find Cecelia in either of them. Whether it was her beside him while he had been laying bleeding after that shrapnel had hit his face or beside him in a soft bed where they were safe.

His mind never seemed to let him escape. It was always there nagging him, never letting him have a moment of peace. All the torment for the war was enough on his shoulders, but now the turmoil of a broken heart had become to much – and his rifle once again sounded good between his teeth.

* * *

><p>Cecelia too struggled from day to day life. Not only was she expected to pretend like everything was fine, they also expected her to hide her bruises. When she was left alone she wasn't allowed to go very far because they would shackle her ankle to a nearby heater and any attempt at getting free caused an obscene amount of noise. Other than that, Luciano or Lansky would have the lovely privilege of taking her about the hotel to parties or performances where she did not have a choice in the matter of what she did.<p>

She had spent time wondering why Richard hadn't bothered to try to see her or find her. But these men were mobsters, they got in deep with smugglers, killers, gamblers, and she had to remind herself that Richard wasn't any different. He probably thought she was happy here, or respected that she 'belonged' to Rothstein. But she still had hoped he would've tried.

She also prayed that he wasn't hurt. She actually hoped that he believed she was happy over thinking he was hurt. He was so fragile, and to her, _he was everything_– she couldn't bare to see him broken.

Cecelia had begun to think that running wouldn't be as stupid as she thought. She knew that her father was the most distasteful company she would ever come across. But letting Rothstein scare her with him was something she had started to ignore. If Richard still cared for her like she thought he did, she could run right into his arms and Richard would protect her.

But this thinking was all before Cecelia's illness had taken a turn for the worst.

She could no longer stand the smell of Charlie's cigarettes, Lansky's bourbon, or even her own perfume. Rothstein had a doctor promptly visit and diagnose her pregnancy within the hour. To which Rothstein was angered by.

She had kept her skirt so tight nit to be sure not to let anyone near it, but hearing that she had for someone, made not only Rothstein mad, but Charlie as well. That night had occurred so quickly only flashed still resided in Cecelia's mind.

She remembered being called a whore, a damn cat, cheap, ignorant and several other very distasteful words. But the one comment she only truly cared about was:

"Get rid of it!" Rothstein said, "She can't perform!"

"Well doc, can you do that?" Charlie asked.

"Of course, not without the proper tools, but it can be done." The doctor said.

That was when Cecelia dropped to her knees and began to beg.

"Please! NO!" she screamed, she knew that she must look like an unpleasant mess with tears covering her face, pale and ill. "Don't take it from me!" she begged.

"You seemed to have lost a bit of your integrity in Atlantic City, I was a fool to let you stay so long." Rothstein said, seething.

"Who's to say we gotta' listen to come whore about what she wants?" Charlie said.

"I'm not a whore!" she cried, "please don't do this, I won't fight you anymore, I won't!"

"And all that money I lose waiting for you to have some bastard child?"

"I'd pay you! I'd earn every cent I cost you, but please do not do this!" Cecelia cried even harder.

"Do you have any idea what you make me now? A new show, same pretty face?"

"I'd earn every scent of it back." She said while swallowing hard, "I'll do anything you want. Please!"

There was a long strenuous pause through out the room. Rothstein softened his gaze, "You won't fight, you'll work, give me everything?" Rothstein asked.

"Yes, every bit of it!" she said.

"Then perhaps a bargain can be arranged." Arnold said. He motioned for the three men to follow him, leaving Cecelia behind, ending their conversation.

Luciano gave Arnold a look like he was crazy, like it was a bad bet.

But Arnold already knew it was.

"Charlie, indulge her fantasy of being some sort of mother." Arnold said, "Doc, in a few weeks time we'll need your services again, although you'll need to bring the right tools."

"Yes sir," was the Doctor's response.

"So we ain't letting her… you know have the thing?" Charlie asked awkwardly.

"Of course not Charlie let's not be dumb now."

"Who's to say she won't get worse when we… ya know?" Charlie asked.

"You kill the dream, you break her spirit Charlie. She's afraid of you, afraid of me, all of us. That's why she's still here."

"So you think she'll just go back to normal, dancin' at night?"

"She'll do more than that Charlie, she'll make us more money than ever."

"Alright, you want me here tonight or do think she'll be fine all locked up?"

"No Charlie, you have business to attend to in Atlantic City, go find out all you can about Cici's time there, I want to do something about the bastard you thinks he can play with my property."

Now all the characters are on the same timeline, last chapter the last piece was essentially right after chapter 17, while the rest of the chapter somewhat flooded through a whole month. Now for... action!


	20. A Steady Fire Fight

Richard had once again fond himself in a place he'd often wandered before. It wasn't anywhere physical. It was a state of mind that sometimes even he feared to enter.

He had been pestered with terrible nightmares for weeks on end, and he didn't know how he would cope with this utter sense of loss. His mind led him to the war where the days he spent laying in cover for a shot were the worst times in his life, waiting, waiting, and waiting.

But once that bullet was finally free of the barrel, a heavy sense of turmoil was lifted from his shoulders, leaving him pleased. And on this particularly dark day Richard's mind was thinking of only that, only Cecelia was the one to receive the bullet. That there and then ended his tragedy, his grief, and he would be peaceful, for only a moment.

His unnatural aspect of killing had been something acquired through the war, with bodies being only bodies; it was easy to see them drop dead. Every new death meant a way to win the war. At first the thought of hurting her and been so restricted in his head, completely forbidden. But his first trip to New York with Jimmy had caused him to think of other means.

They had spent the day making dealing for shipment, and even trying to move heroine around as well. Jimmy was doing business on his own now, and Rothstein was his potential big client. Richard had been there in the background while Jimmy asked for their business, chatted, and revisited old topics.

Cecelia's name had stung in his ear quite well.

With the mention of her show and how happy she was, Richard's finger only tightened on the gun in his hand. He closed his eye and only listened.

"I wanted to ask, Ms. Cecelia – how was she in Atlantic City socially?" Rothstein asked.

"She was fine. Went with Nuck' to a few parties, never missed a show."

"Did she bring a lot of men back with her? After the show I mean." Rothstein asked.

"I suppose a few. Dunno' Richard would best be the one to ask, but he ain't too fond of her." Jimmy stated quietly.

"I see." Rothstein said, "she is quite the handful." He said gesturing to Richard.

Richard bit his tongue and kept his eye shut and waited for them to finish.

Richard and Jimmy returned to their hotel room to a quiet evening. They would drive back first thing in the morning. Jimmy, being inebriated from heavy drinking was fast asleep in the room next to Richard's, so much that his snoring could be heard through the wall.

He sat patiently for the longest time before he left his room like a phantom. He was level headed at the moment, clear at what he wanted to do. It would take him a mere moment to be sure – and another few minutes to execute what he wished.

Like New York, her shows were crowed, men filing around her, following her, begging for her attention. He didn't know if who was worse, New York, or Atlantic City fans. Like any other man he stood at the bar, grabbing a drink. He decided to stand in the back of the room, unnoticed.

Her show was different, altered in many ways. In one, it was less innocent, and more indecent. By the time she had shed all her clothes on stage Richard had left in a mad rage. While he was fuming he couldn't help but think the worst thoughts… she had hurt him now in more than one way – and he didn't want to stand it.

Part of him said that he was the unlovable one; if he still did love her he should end his own life. Killing her would serve no purpose, but the way it had felt so good in the war… only made him itch.

* * *

><p>Cecelia had brought every bit of strength she had left to performing each night Rothstein asked her to. If it ran a course with the safety of her baby, she would've done anything. It had been a few weeks, leaving her to ponder and think of not only the past, but the future as well. She could only hope Richard might come looking for her, but alas these last few months had proved uneventful, and Cecelia couldn't help but note and unhappy tone with Rothstein when he inquired about the prospective father.<p>

"So you manage to leave here on the grounds of sharing your bed with another man, but the moment you get to Atlantic City, you lose those standards?" he asked her.

"No… It was different, not… not like that." Cecelia had said.

"So it was mutual, mutual attraction, was it not?"

"Yes… I suppose." Cecelia said.

"My, I find that intriguing, especially for you Cici. Where did you manage to find such a man?" he asked.

"Lucky prospect." She said, careful not to share too much with Rothstein.

"A mere, business deal?" he asked while he sipped at a glass of chilled milk, and poked at a decadent plate of pink salmon. "I love a good business investment, tell me darling, what sort of business does he do?"

"Your kind." She said slyly, before excusing herself from the table for a short trip to the rest room. She came back only moment later to the same man.

"By business you mean well planned investments?" he asked.

"No, he's not a gambler," she said giving Rothstein the only stab she could.

He pursed his lips and looked back at her. The air became awkward, and thick. She listened to a record casually playing in the background.

"What do you suppose is going to happen?" he asked. "You're going to carry around that baby, and make it all up in the end?"

She stayed silent.

"I'm going to lose quite a bit of money while you… take time off." He said casually. "Which is really too bad because you are quite the little money maker."

Cecelia felt the uneasy feeling in the room make her sick all over again.

* * *

><p>There was a sort of mystery about how Richard felt this very moment.<p>

At a neighboring hotel he had taken a room to his liking and silently waited for Cecelia to return to her own room. The curtains were drawn immediately, it left him nothing to look for, and he wondered slightly if his replacement was doing more than keeping her company at the moment, another thought that he could not stand.

It only drove him further into the madness that consumed him, the madness she had created.

She had only pulled him close for a short while, but that was all Richard needed to realize that she mattered more to him than their romps in behind closed doors. She had done far too much damage.

He saw rustling at the curtains. Pulling them back was Luciano, he could see that through the sight fastened to his rifle. His clothes were disheveled, stained… Richard nearly pulled the trigger at his skull, but he realized the sight to hold had more to it. He held his breath while he watched several men exit the room. He watched the upset girl on the floor hold her head and cry, for what Richard wasn't sure.  
>If they had hurt her, he wasn't going to think twice about pulling the trigger – but the terrified face of his lost love was all that tormented him now.<p>

He watched her hit a man trying to talk to her; she was fighting them, all of them. Luciano had to pull her away from the other before he slapped her hard across the face. Richard pulled back on the chamber, hearing the shell become locked.

The fight across the way had erupted to violence between not just Cecelia but some of the others. Richard killed the one who seemed to think that hurting her was okay, that she was some piece of meat to hurt all he wanted. He would worry about the Luciano kid later.

Richard packed his gun swiftly and left the window open. He left out the back exit and made his way around to the hotel before heading towards Cecelia's room. He had found it easily by way of recognizing those he'd seen leaving, and from the scoping he'd done before.

He kicked open the door, gun still loaded, ready to kill the other.

But she was alone. Luciano had run, probably to notify Rothstein and would be back any moment. Upon seeing all the blood around her, he immediately felt terrible, exposing her to this was something she'd never appreciate. He approached her with hesitation until she looked up at him, her face almost heavy with sadness. She looked at him like he was a lost lover returning to her, and she was more than grateful to take his arms.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Again, I'm always sorry for the wait. I've been working on a book for a friend, and been stuck at the hospital for days. Writing hasn't been a priority, I just was struck tonight with a little inspiration, hope you liked! And Thank you to those who messaged me about the chapter not functioning correctly, I have no idea why it wasn't working.  
><strong>


	21. A Short Lived Expression

Richard was more than uncertain on what to do now that he had cause such a ruckus. He realized though that it had been the right decision to make, as Cecelia was hurt, bleeding in fact, and in quite a bit of pain. For a moment he returned to his room, completely sober, alert and aware of any movement outside his door. While he hoped that no one would come looking for them he gathered his things and made a trip to Jimmy's room.

Jimmy took a long time to come to the door, still drunk from a few hours ago.

"We. Mm. May have a problem." Richard said.

"W-what?" Jimmy stammered.

Jimmy followed him to his room, slightly swaying, slightly sick. But he became slightly more sober the moment he saw Cecelia was lying on Richard's bed, crying.

"Richard what'd you do? We have to get rid of her."

"No." Richard said very affirmatively. "She's coming with us, to a hospital."

"Just kill her, get her out of the way." Jimmy said.

Richard's fists wrapped around Jimmy's collar and slammed him against the nearest wall.

"She. Is. Coming. With us." Richard said slowly. Jimmy was taken aback by his close friend's odd behavior. With a nod he went back to his room to gather his belongings and to finish sobering up.

Richard looked at Cecelia once more and shut the door Jimmy had exited from. She was shaking, Richard had so many questions to ask her, like what she had been thinking, why she left him, why she had lied to him, but he couldn't say a single thing to her. She was so upset – he was sure she wouldn't even respond.

She was easy enough to carry to the car, where Richard realized her bleeding had not stopped. His green coat was easily stained with blood, while her face was a fatigued pale white.

Jimmy said nothing when he climbed in the drivers seat, Richard could only sense the irritation, but after Richard had been dragged here and forced to listen to Jimmy and Rothstein talk about her, forced himself to see her show, and found her treated like this – he felt more than betrayed.

Her body was shaking; the cool air flowing through the car didn't help. Richard managed to take off his jacket and cover her body the best he could. The blood wasn't bothering him, but Cecelia being hurt did cause him some grief. If this had been how she was treated, why did she come back? Why would she have ever left his side?

_'Oh, Richard thought, because I'm a monster.'_

If she had chosen this life over him, she must've never felt what he thought she did. He was foolish to think anyone could ever love him… but the way she took his arms the moment he ended up in her doorway seemed almost like need.

Richard began to argue that they should visit the nearest hospital. Jimmy shook his head no.

"If she's coming back with us, we're goin' to Atlantic City. Im not stopping here, who knows what trouble you caused here Richard."

"Mm. She needs. A doctor." Richard said.

"Yeah, a doctor in Atlantic City." Jimmy said.

"Jimmy's right Richard," he heard Cecelia say, "Rothstein will be looking for me." Her eyes stayed shut, and her voice cracked. Richard held her close to him and felt her relax. Jimmy looked down, in his lap Cecelia's feet lay, untouched by blood, and bare.

He noticed something.

On her feet were old cigarette burns. Scars that spoke of a life where maybe she wasn't so happy, where maybe her and Jimmy shared a commonality.

The drive to Atlantic City was long and quiet. Cecelia had fallen unconscious, and Richard began to worry. Until he talked to her, he was going to take care of her. For all he knew she did love him, he didn't want to risk losing that.

So he held her close, and ignored any of Jimmy's snide comments.

Richard carried her into the Atlantic City hospital just after dawn. Where she was taken from Richard's arms and he was left standing in a white hallway covered in her blood. Jimmy was close behind him. Jimmy clapped his hand over Richards shoulder while he watched the worry flood his friend's eye. The real part of his face had begun to match the tin strung around his ears.

Then they waited.

Cecelia calmly awoke with a nurse at her side. Her calm demeanor fluttered away when she couldn't remember how she had gotten here, or where she even was. The night before had felt so dream like, she was sure it had been a nightmare.

She felt a fuzzy feeling in her fingertips from a pain medication, she could wiggle her toes and feel and emptiness in her stomach.

If this was real, if she was really here, then Rothstein had betrayed their agreement. She had let Richard down. She began to quietly sob; the nurse was trying to get her to comply with pointless questions. Cecelia couldn't even hear what she was asking; all she could do was bite her lip till it bled.

Cecelia was given more medication, and woke up later to a familiar face.

Now, Jimmy Darmody may not have been the face she wanted to see, but at least she knew who he was.

"You know, Richard's sitting out there, hasn't moved, won't leave, and they won't even let him back here." Jimmy said.

Cecelia blinked twice, she didn't have much strength to talk.

"I suppose… Well I want to apologize."

"This is your fault Jimmy." Cecelia said.

"I – I understand that you'd be mad, so I'm not going to apologize, I just said I want to. But I know it's no good."

Cecelia just looked at him.

"Richard… he's never been this way before. And I think that you've brought him back from the front lines. God, that guy loves you – and with Richard… I can't let him not have that chance to be happy. So just know I was wrong, alrigh?"

Cecelia didn't give him any recognition. He was the sole reason she ended up in New York, he was the reason she was lying in a hospital bed.

Jimmy left her a few minutes later.

* * *

><p>Cecelia managed to convince the nurse that fresh air would help her feel better, so with doctors permission, she was allowed to be pushed around the small courtyard at the hospital.<p>

But she didn't sit long in the courtyard until she saw Richard had followed them. She inched herself away from the nurse, and clung to his arm for support. She was tired, she really had wanted to rest in bed, but she just had to see Richard.

His clothes were caked with dried blood, his face withered with pain. She began to cry when she saw him.

He was trying to make words, "Mm. Mmm."

"Where have you been?" Cecelia asked cupping her hand to his face.

"Not close enough." He said finally.

The nurse was being polite enough to let them converse, but kept a close eye on Cecelia and her dizzy state.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's… not Mm. your fault." Richard said, "you were only –"

"No." she shook her head. "I never wanted to leave, I never would have."

"Then you shouldn't Mm. Be. Sorry."

"I'm sorry about the baby." Cecelia said, crying even harder now. Richard acted mostly stunned, not sure what she was talking about. The nurse urged Cecelia to sit back down in the chair they had wheeled her out here on, as upset as she was, it wouldn't be long before she needed to be back in bed under close doctor care.

Richard stayed there, stunned. Still not sure what to say or think, before he realized that Cecelia was gone.

* * *

><p>AN:

This wasn't super long, but didn't expect to get something out so soon, enjoy. There's a bit of a lull while were establish some old connections once again, and then of course, trouble is never far behind.


	22. A Kind Of Betrayal

Jimmy Darmody was very unhappy with the way things had occurred in New York. While he still had a smile on his face for Richard, but they way things were handled, weren't good for business.

Jimmy had to remind himself of Richard's attachment to his sister. That he must feel a great deal for her if he was willing to risk his life to save her. But of course Rothstein would point at him, and Jimmy would take the fall, unless he thought of something.

He was slightly distracted though from being tired and hung-over from the drive. He kept thinking about those burns on her feet… he had cigarette burns just like them – on his legs from one of Ma's past boyfriends. But now he slightly understood how Cecelia was frustrated with her, it was the very same way Jimmy was frustrated with Gillian.

Richard looked up at him when Jimmy returned to the hospital that second day.

His eyes burned from the bright sunlight against the linoleum floor. He remembered the day he'd met Richard, in the confines of that veteran hospital. It looked similar to this hospital. Only Richard had been completely vacant that day they'd met, the sight Jimmy saw today was very different. A worried, sick face found it's way across the living parts of his face.

Jimmy had done this to him, played with his feelings, his heart. Which was something that was likely already in pieces. It wasn't easy to feel the vacancies of war, but if someone could, Jimmy was wrong to stand in the way of that.

"Rich – Look, I know this is bad." Jimmy said.

"Bad. Mnn. I'll say." Richard said.

"With… Look, she should never have gone back there." Jimmy said, trying to play off her elusive travels like it had been her bad decision.

"I was- going over the night I lost her." Richard began. "Rothstein came mhm. and collected her, you kept me busy that night, mmhm. Purposely busy."

Richard gave him a striking look, one of suspicion. That Jimmy felt stab the deep recesses of what heart he had left. He sat down beside Richard for some time, both in silence. When Richard refused to speak to Jimmy after an hour of additional comments, Jimmy left… frustrated.

Richard felt like there was too much going on for him to deal with his friend's hand in losing the girl he'd fallen for. And now, several things had gone wrong. Crucial time had been lost, and worst of all, Cecelia had been put in harms way, in irrational danger – and Richard had ignored it all out of spite. Come to find out, he had been played like a pawn in a game of chess. Now problems needed to be fixed, but first, he would not leave Cecelia's side. Unless she wanted him to, unless she didn't need him.

* * *

><p>Just the way the hospital smelled was enough to make Cecelia ill all over again. She learned twice now that the almost botched procedure had nearly killed her, and succeeded in killing her unborn child. Jimmy had yet to come back, Richard had been unseen, and all in all, Cecelia was alone. Only comforted by the medications given to her, but now the time had come for her to leave, and where she was to go, she did not know.<p>

She stole several military issued syringes filled with the drug they had given her when she first arrived. She tucked them neatly away into a hospital cap she had been given for time about the sun room. But now as she was wheeled down the hallway in an old wooden wheel chair she thought to herself, how was she going to survive? If she hadn't infuriated Rothstein enough already, now she had escaped his clutches, and left him without a head liner for two weeks, probably costing him a pretty penny. However, if he had neglected to take her to a hospital in the first place, she would've rightly bled out right there on that bed he practically kept her chained to. She was lucky she had Richard then, and she was lucky to have him now.

She inhaled sharply; seeing him sitting there, waiting for her filled her with warmness that the drugs could not. Just to belong somewhere for a moment made her feel a little less hopeless.

Richard stood up, almost nervous, so many times had she seen him like this, the way he held his hands in front of him, balled against his stomach. He protectively placed his arm around her as he led her away from the front doors and into a borrowed vehicle. She quickly realized after only moments of driving that he was taking her to his home.

For three days now, her and Richard had barely talked, both more afraid of what the other might have to say.

Cecelia almost couldn't bare to talk to Richard from fear of hearing him try to gather sweet words which he had only get out in clumps.

Richard was afraid of hearing the truth. Whether it was her leaving him, or whether another close friend had betrayed him.

Richard helped Cecelia bathe and dress each morning, and made sure she eat something. She ate very little after she would inject those drugs into her thigh, it thinned her appetite, and it made her weak. And the less she ate, the longer the feeling lasted. But it also distanced herself further from the problem she was only hiding from. Would Rothstein even try to get to her? Enact revenge for being the cause for the deaths of some of his men, a scene in his hotel, for making a fool of him? She didn't know. But for the time being, she didn't care.

While she was deep in worry about Rothstein, she didn't hear Richard clear his throat and address her. She felt his hand on her shoulder, which she kept tightly wrapped in one of his shirts. She looked up at him, into his one sad eye and she began to cry.

She felt warmer once she told him everything:  
>"I guess I sort of hoped you'd show up one day." Cecelia said, "I could understand if you had never... really thought of me that way. I was just so happy -" she choked, "so happy - about..."<p>

"Mm. the baby." Richard said roughly.

Cecelia nodded, trying not to cry more.

"I never would've left... Rothstein threatened me, he... just knew how to hurt me, how to play me, and I fell for it." Cecelia said.

"you. mm. are a master manipulator. mm. of men. and just this one eludes you?" he asked.

"you do." she said.

"oh no. mm. I fell under your spell the first time I saw you." Richard said in that voice she loved so much.

This time she smiled.

"Richard…"

"I shouldn't mmh. Have let you go back to New York. I should've followed mm. you. Brought you back with me. But mm. I let Jimmy Mm-" there it began, blaming Jimmy. "I let him convince me that's where you wanted to be. Mm. That you were happy. You were performing, you were mm… happy. So it seemed."

"No… Richard. I was happy here." Cecelia said. Her hands were shaking from the come down of the pain killers, Richard noticed, and took her hands in his, holding her trembling fingers.

They both sat in silence for a while. Waiting for the sun to set, or her tears to stop they did not know but for some reason silence just felt required.

* * *

><p>Trying to post what I can while I slowly get work done. Finally have enough for a full chapter, thanks for waiting you guys. More soon.<p> 


	23. A Moment of Madness

_The Night of the Shooting:_

Lucky Luciano had found Meyer Lansky and Arnold Rothstein in a slight celebration in Rothstein's office. One which was quickly interrupted with the notice of Luciano's stained shirt.

"What the fuck Charlie?" Rothstein asked.

"Boss, there's a shooter, he barely missed my head too. But he got some of the others."

"And the girl?" Rothstein asked.

"The… procedure. It didn't go so well." Lucky stated.

"So you just left her there?" Meyer asked.

"She was bleeding everywhere, I couldn't exactly carry her through the lobby." Lucky said.

"Told you not to hire that guy. He did fail outa' med school." Meyer said.

Rothstein rolled his eyes and asked, "Where is this shooter now?"

"He's gotta be staying across the way. Some sniper." Lucky said.

"Well get the girl." Rothstein stated, "And the rest of you bring me this marksman."

Lucky and Lansky were both unhappy to return and find the girl gone. Neither was Rothstein when he found out. Realizing someone obviously made a play to take back his prized showgirl. All he could think was, Nucky Thompson. Guy always had a thing for money, and of course he would be this stupid.

* * *

><p>Richard felt relived finding that Cecelia had never wished to leave him. But knowing that did put a sharp thread through his heart. Knowing that he must've been played somehow, whether it was Rothstein, Jimmy, Nucky… he didn't know. But every arrow kept pointing at Jimmy, his only friend. The one person he never thought would betray him, because Jimmy was lost, just like Richard.<p>

Both men had taken arms with one another. Both wandered a bloody battlefield. Both still slept there at night, but still felt the rain on their face, both still felt the warn blood from a friend. Being back in the real world was hard, but not if you wandered it with someone just as lost as you.

Now it seemed that Richard had begun to feel the Boardwalk under his feet. The water on his face was from the spray of the ocean, and the warmth he felt was from the skin of a lover.

The only terrified thoughts he held now were those of the frightful face of Cecelia, they night they tore her open, the night they stole both their happiness. Cecelia had been back now for a whole month. Some days better than others, and today she opted to take a stroll, and then stop at the beach. Something Richard encouraged. She had several returned doctor visits, one seeming to be worst that the last. First, a simple check up, where they caught Cecelia trying to steal morphine. Which made them aware of her current drug habit, one they are still trying to fix. The second dealt with the painful removal of several uncomfortable stitches, and the last… that was the worst of them. Only a few days ago Cecelia learned that the terrible botched surgery would leave her unable to bare any further children. Cecelia cried that entire day. Richard couldn't let her out of his sight for fear she had tucked away several syringes for an event just like this.

But eventually, Cecelia fell asleep. It was late into the night, but the way that Richard's blue shirt smelled lightly of sweet whiskey, and how his breathing was calm and steady left her heart at ease. Letting her have a few moments of rest.

Now time had brought them here, alone on the beach. It was a sunny day, slightly warm, but the water too cold. She told Richard she loved him after he placed his arm around her. Occasionally they had these moments, the one's where neither of them remembered the bad things, and they could only recall each other.

* * *

><p>Arnold Rothstein had been busy for these past few weeks dealing with the mess left in Cecelia's old room. And her whereabouts still seemed to be unknown. Jimmy Darmody knew nothing about her, Nucky Thompson shortly answered on the subject, also feigning ignorance. He however knew that it was only a matter of time before she was in public again, only a matter of time before someone recognized her.<p>

It seemed that in the time of prohibitions, all restrictions were coveted, even those of glorious dancers. If men desired it, they would fight over it, especially if it made the cardholder a lot of money. And Arnold Rothstein new how to play his cards.

* * *

><p>Jimmy stopped by Richard's flat one more time before he was about to give up. Each time before this one, Richard had only opened the door once, but the brief chat they had became heated, and Richard hadn't opened the door since. This time it opened before he could even knock. And this time it was Cecelia who answered.<p>

"Richard's not here." She said.

"I.. I can come back later." Jimmy said.

"No, why don't you come in, I made tea."

Jimmy stepped inside, slowly, but cautiously. "Never drank much tea."

"You'll get used to it." She said.

Jimmy sat down in an uncomfortable chair at Richard's desk. This place was small for two people. But they had functioned in it for weeks now. Jimmy noticed once more the burn marks on her feet, but the rest of her features were now in competition. Her sunken face wasn't glowing like it did before, her once beautiful features men craved were diminishing before his eyes. She was no longer so desirable as he had once thought, she looked broken, it was obvious.

"Look, I shouldn't stay." Jimmy said standing.

Cecelia handed him a cup of tea, it smelled of burnt herbs and floral perfume.

"He's hurt you know. He knows you're the reason I ended up there."

"How are you even sure of that?" Jimmy asked.

"It's it obvious big brother? You're not that hard to read."

"Well I'm surprised you can read at all." Jimmy said.

"Well our mother was always big on seeing us educated." Cecelia muttered.

Jimmy clenched his teeth and dared to ask, "and your father?"

"He was much more stern about other types of education."

"And if you didn't learn?" Jimmy asked.

"Oh, I think you know Jimmy Darmody."

"Is that how you got those burns?" he asked.

"My father's the reason I've got a lot of scars Jimmy. And now a few are because of you. What is it with men in my family?" she asked.

"Don't think you're so different, we're all fucked up in this family. Everyone of us." Jimmy said.

"Then I suppose Jimmy, that you and I are more alike than you care to think."

That statement made Jimmy cringe. Because perhaps she was right, and he shuddered to think _how_right. He was still standing as Richard walked through the door. Richard stood there, looking at him, all the more menacing with only half a face.

Cecelia took his bag from him, placing a sweet hand against his face, assuring him that she was alright, and that he should be too.

"I came by to warn you, A.R. is looking for her. He's talked to me, Nucky, and god knows who else. Just… just wanted to give you a heads up." Jimmy said.

Richard nodded and looked away from Jimmy's stare. Jimmy placed the cup on the table and walked towards the door, before stepping out Jimmy muttered, _"I'm sorry."_

It took Richard only a moment before he slammed Jimmy against the wall. Fists balled against the collar of Jimmy's coat.

Richard was so angry he could only manage to spit out, "you… hurt her."

Cecelia pushed Richard away from Jimmy. Jimmy quickly left and Cecelia shut the door behind him. She had to take Richard's clenched fists and fit her palms inside before he started to calm down. This had been bothering him for weeks, his own close friend, trying to hurt him. Jimmy was more lost than Richard thought, and for a moment, Richard saw no hope for him.

* * *

><p>Again, this was long awaited. The new Mibba sort of freaked me out to be honest. I will do my best to navigate correctly and post adequately. I'm thinking of finishing the story up soon, not soon soon, but we're nearing the last part. Thanks for reading and favoriting, and subbing even though I haven't updated in so long. Thank you guys, so much!<p> 


	24. A Sort of Sadness

With time passing quickly together, soon Richard went back to working for Nucky. Money was an issue, visiting the hospital had exhausted Cecelia's savings, and Richard had little money as it was. So together they watched for opportunities. Cecelia thought that she could get a job baking bread, but Richard refused to let her tire herself out – he worked as he could, and hated leaving her side.

Both were now content with their feelings for each other. Richard no longer feared her rejection, because after she got better – she stayed. He didn't even ask her to, he just came home to her each night and realized that she was going to be there every time. He protected her, and he would die for her… she knew that.

On this particular day, Cecelia chose not to listen to Richard's advice, and at least help him in some way. She picked up his suits from the cleaners, found fresh produce… and that help wanted sign in the window of the bakery teased her so.

* * *

><p>Jimmy was still trying to run his own business. He was still closely mixed with Lansky and Luciano – something Richard was glad to be away from. But the tension between Nucky and the others was widely felt. Jimmy and Richard rarely crossed paths, but when they did Richard promptly left, as to not try to strangle him.<p>

Nucky and Richard were leaving a storage house to return to the Ritz. Counting crates and bottles had left them tired, and Richard was happy to retire for the day. And… while casually stopped in the street, Jimmy Darmody walked in front of their car.

Nucky noted the tension.

Richard gripped the steering wheel tighter. Jimmy tipped his hat and continued on. He looked more pale than usual, almost sickly.

"I thought you two were friends?"

"Mm. No." Richard said.

Nucky raised his eyebrow, understanding all too well what Richard must've meant. It seemed that Jimmy had disappeared from everyone at this point.

"I hear his girl was killed. Found dead in their pretty home."

Richard felt his heart singe. Angela, that sweet girl, caught up in this – and Jimmy didn't even have the decency to protect her. Apparently Jimmy was colder than Richard had even thought – first he failed to protect his own flesh and blood, and now his wife. Didn't he see what he was getting into?

Richard drove Nucky home, and left to walk home from there. Finally getting to his apartment fairly late.

Richard tried not to panic when Cecelia wasn't there. He wasn't so much worried about her being out, rather than her just not coming back at all. He loved her, and he didn't want to lose her. He paced back and fourth trying to think of some place she might be – but only the thoughts of who could've taken her, popped into his head.

Just before his paranoia was about to make him burst down the hallway, guns loaded, she came waltzing through the front door. A scarf over her head a brown bag in each arm. Richard first felt relief, and then anger. But as soon as he stopped her and embraced her he felt sound again.

"Richard darling, I'm so sorry, I know it's late, I hope you weren't waiting long."

"No. Mhm. Just. Worried."

"I know, it's late. I'm so sorry." She told him. "I got caught up shopping, went a little too far into town so it took me longer to get back."

"It's alright, as long as your safe. Mm. no one tried to. Mm. hurt you?" he asked.

"No. I'm just fine. A bit sad though. I miss being back there, the heart of town, an audience, something fun." She said.

Richard thumbed her chin and jaw line. Her face, though still pretty, was lacking a light it used to have. It didn't change how he felt about her, but it saddened him that she saw it too.

"I know. Mm. You could come with me. tomorrow, mm. And see Nucky. Maybe that'd help?"

"It might." She said smiling now. She appreciated it when Richard did little things just to see her smile. She turned for a moment to put down the brown bags she carried but then returned his embrace. Holding him, hugging him tight. She was getting caught up again, in the way he smelled. This time she could smell Nucky's cigarettes, but the soft fabric against her face… his steady breathing. She missed this. The feeling of belonging, and feeling safe.

She had fallen for Richard before, and now she knew she was never getting back up. She looked up at him, took off his mask, and gently kissed him.

Now this, was something she missed.

With passion lacking for the last few weeks, she enjoyed this moment were she had forgotten all about New York, Jimmy, her ordeal. If she just focused on Richard, things were okay. Better than okay.

She pushed back his coat and threw his hat to the floor. He was hesitant to embrace her, but he pulled open her coat and he felt her press against him, like he was a want, or a need.

Slowly pulling each other's clothes off was more than a game, it was a tease. Cecelia kept her smile, and Richard gained one. Quietly they stood, undressing each other, letting clothes fall to the floor as they explored one another's body like it was the first time. Cecelia, finally naked, took advantage of the distraction she caused to Richard – she traced several of his scars along his face. Wondering if she looked the same on the inside. The scars radiated sadness, but his one eye and smirk told her that something happy had finally begun to grow inside him. She leaned forward and kissed the scar on his neck while he let his hands roam over her shoulders and down her chest.

His tender touch gave her chills, upon seeing the bumps on her body, Richard quickly picked her up and placed her beneath their bed covers, he quickly joined her to keep her warm. For the longest time they lay there, kissing one another's face, smiling, the occasional giggle. She could feel him pressed against her, he was so hard, but not doing anything, only kissing her.

Then she realized, he was waiting for permission.

She quickly reached down and pushed back on his torso so he would move to just the right place… and when he gently pushed into her – she could only breathe his name in a shallow breath.

* * *

><p>Cecelia awoke to sunlight warming her skin, and next to her the man she loved. She quietly dressed and cooked them both breakfast. Richard joined her, still smiling. They spent their afternoon talking with one another like they used to late into the night. Richard had work tonight, and intended on keeping his promise on taking her to the Ritz to visit with Nucky.<p>

She hadn't gotten out much at all since coming back from the hospital, and now that she was finally looking happy; he wanted things to stay that way. He watched as she enjoyed getting a little dressed up, twirling about in a navy blue dress that Richard quite liked. She fitted it with a white hat, and blue gloves, and off they were again, just like before.

She enjoyed the Boardwalk even more than she ever had. The treats and fun things to see had her running every which way, but she continued on so as not to make Richard late.

Richard brought her in the back entrance, and then took her to Nucky's suite. Richard had already informed him of what had happened in New York, but left out the part about Jimmy. Nucky wasn't the least bit surprised when he learned that Rothstein had simply taken what he wanted. Cecelia's show was a huge business asset, and frankly any town she performed in did very well in revenue.

Nucky greeted Cecelia with open arms, wholeheartedly understanding that what she went through was terrible. While he went on secretly hoping that if he played the nice guy, she would chose to work for him again.

Richard attended to business downstairs while Nucky and Cecelia chatted. He just needed to unload a truck and re-route some liquor to a few restaurants. Easy work, but harder when the sheriff ain't so nice anymore and with competition in town.

Speaking of in town, Richard nearly smashed a bottle of whisky to the floor when he saw the clean cut Arnold Rothstein waltzing through the hotel lobby. Blue suit, red bow tie, silver cane, it was obvious he had plenty of money – meaning he shouldn't have needed Cecelia.

Richard clenched his fists and shoved them in his pockets while he made his way to the elevator. Rothstein wouldn't be far behind him, he took long steps once out of the elevator, letting himself into Nucky's office – leading him to the sight of Lucky Luciano and Jimmy Darmody.

* * *

><p>AN: A litte short for being apart for so long. But I got a lovely comment the other day, and I really just wanted to make that person happy by writing a little. I won't ever leave a story unfinished, but inspiration isn't always friends with me - and sometimes I'm just too busy. But I love these two characters, I hope you're ready for what's coming up! A dark part of Cecelia's past will be revealed in the chapters to come.


	25. A Past of Pain

Richard looked at Lucky, then back to Jimmy. Jimmy looked rugged, tired, and drunk. They way he looked was unsettling, Richard couldn't predict what he might possibly do. Jimmy was about to say something when Arnold Rothstein burst through the doors, causing Jimmy and Lucky to become startled.

"So there you are lucky, looking quite friendly with Mr. Darmody here." Rothstein said. "Ah-" Arnold noticed Cecelia now, she was sitting on the sofa, where Richard had left her. Her hands, slightly shaking, but a strong look across her face, Richard knew that look. "-My pride and joy… hidden away… here. I have to say, these last few months have not been kind to you." Arnold said looking down at Cecelia.

She shot him a glare, she didn't care very much for his comment. She watched as Richard readily stood, his hands in his pockets, but she could tell he was seething. Any chance to hurt Rothstein or Lucky, the men responsible for hurting the ones he loved.

"Look, we can't have any trouble." Nucky said.

"And I agree Mr. Thompson, I simply came here on business matters, concerning Jimmy Darmody. I just didn't know there would be such a happy reunion."

"This isn't a reunion, Ms. Darmody here isn't working for me or Atlantic City, simply a social visit, and I should see that she be going now. Richard would you please take Ms. -" Nucky was interrupted.

"Oh, I don't mean your reunion, or mine for that matter." Rothstein said. He snapped his fingers the two men stationed at the front entrance opened them wide to let in a man. He was wearing a black suit with gray accents, and black bowler hat and had a cigar in his hand. He took a large puff as he stood next to Rothstein. Cecelia didn't need to wait for the smoke to clear to see who it was - the all too familiar smell was turning her stomach over and over - she was ready to vomit.

She saw that Rothstein was carefully watching Cecelia. Her features stayed strong, except most of the color was beginning to drain from her face. The revolting disgust she felt was so immense she wanted to grab one of the guns near her and shoot her father before anything else was said.

"It's good to see you kiddo." he said in a deep husky voice. There was a scar on his neck from a man who had tried to kill him in prison. Tried to kill him because he knew what had been done to his little girl. It made other people sick too. Not just Cecelia. It seemed that the only people in the room who knew what was going on were the three of them. Everyone else managed to display a heavy look of confusion whilst looking at one another.

Rothstein kept quiet, a small smile on his face – he took pride in showing his power.

"Ah, a father daughter resemblance, wouldn't you say? Or does she look more like Gillian?" Rothstein asked the group.

Jimmy was most perplexed, seeing another one of his ma's old boyfriends – he looked sharp, like he had money, charm, something Gillian was always drawn to. But Jimmy knew that talk of him between Gillian and Cecelia had never faired well, that he'd done something, something bad.

The tall man teases a cigar with his teeth eyeing Cecelia like Richard has seen night after night while she danced at the club. He didn't like it one bit. When he stepped forward with open arms to welcome his daughter, Richard swiftly stepped between them. Cecelia's hand reached around Richard's arm in gratitude.

"Mr. Harrow, you are intervening in a long awaited family reunion, I beg you to step aside." Rothstein said.

"Didn't know I'd get to see my girl today, it has been a long time, I would very much like to hug her."

"Mm. I won't allow it." Richard said.

Rothstein laughed.

"Don't tell me… Cici darling, this is the man you've so carefully chosen to share your bed with?

Luciano laughed, along with the rest of Rothstein's men.

"You've had senators, rich men, handsome men, begging for your attention – and you chose to entertain some veteran with no money and half a face?" Rothstein asked.

Cecelia's hand gripped Richards arm tighter. Then something she didn't expect happened, Jimmy stepped forward, next to Richard.

"Look Arnold, let's go about our business, and let the love birds leave. We don't have time for no reunions."

"I agree Mr. Darmody. I am perfectly fine with catching up with you sister later."

"Sister? Didn't know Gillian had another kid." Dan said.

"My bad, Mr. Thompson, Charlie, James, this is my old friend Dan Herringston – he has a notable relation to Cecelia here."

"We can see that." Nucky said.

Dan stepped towards Cecelia once more, Jimmy took a step towards him.

"Richard, take my sister somewhere safe." Jimmy said, looking back giving her a reassuring look.

Richard pulled her aside around Rothstein's men and back into the hall elevator. Richard was seething, but determined to keep her safe. He was thankful Jimmy backed him up, because he wouldn't have let them hurt her, but that meant problems were sure to arise when there were many guns against his one.

Cecelia was still frozen, incomplete in thought and unable to let go of Richard. He was frightened to see the face he thought they'd gotten rid of. She was sick, and scared and Richard only wished for her to be happy. He couldn't bare to see her become addicted to the pain killers, inaudible, depressed.

"You know, I'll Mm. Protect you. Always." He said to her.

She looked at him, still afraid. "Would you kill him?" she asked.

"I would. For you. Mm."

Cecelia realized the morbid request she's made. The killing of men was barbaric, but she knew Richard was not unaccustomed to delivering death. It was a skill he cherished, and he had kept her safe by exercising that skill. She reached up and kissed him, grateful that she would never have to face that man alone, and that she had Richard. He seemed almost too quick to jump in front of her, to die for her.

* * *

><p>Richard rented a room, across town. Pricey, but he felt that their apartment was no longer safe in case someone decided to tell Rothstein or Cecelia's father where they were staying.<p>

She sat on an old couch drinking tea from a chipped cup. He felt useless unable to give her the lavish things she had once become accustomed to. He tried not to let spoken words bother him, but after all he was a broke veteran. She deserved better.

"Richard." She said. He was standing in the window, keeping watch on passers by.

"Mmhm?" he mumbled looking at her.

"Would you sit near me?" she asked.

Richard took one last glance out the window and drew the shade before he sat down next to her. She curled against him, still sad.

"What'd he do. Mm. To end up in jail?" Richard asked her.

"State will say Tax Evasion." She said, "but it's because that's all they could charge him with, he's guilty of a lot more..."

"Mm. He hurt you." Richard stated.

Cecelia began to cry, "I was so little." she choked out. "No one wanted to help me or no one could. He'd beat me on several occasions, and eventually grew a taste for more… unfavorable actions."

Richard held her next to him.

"I won't let him hurt you again. Mm. I can find him. And I will kill him."

Cecelia sobbed once more into his shoulder. Her hand's shook from fear, but she clutched to a man she wasn't afraid of, he was dangerous, but she loved him.

Richard had decided killing this man was the best thing to do. It meant it would be difficult considering the man's dealings with Rothstein, who was incredibly powerful – but if that's what she wanted done, Richard would not hesitate to give it to her.

But the funny thing was Richard found himself rationalizing, "Cecelia wants this, it's business, it'll avoid problems." When in reality, it drove him insane to think Cecelia was hurt – again, at another time were he couldn't protect her. And this man was sure to die – not only because Richard loved her, but because he would not stand for her to get hurt again.


End file.
